The Grimm Crusade
by EliteLaser
Summary: After the Vytal Festival Tournament takes a turn for the absolute worst, Teams RWBY and JNPR find themselves on the front lines of a global war against mankind's most fearsome enemy: the creatures of Grimm. Fighting through packed city centers and unforgiving wilderness alike, they must end their threat once and for all. Credit to FF user Ornstein the Dragon Slayer for the cover.
1. Fallen

"Yang Xiao Long wins!"

Dr. Oobleck's enthusiastic voice echoed throughout the vast space of Amity colosseum, announcing the close victory of one of the most well-known Beacon huntresses over the helpless Haven huntsman, whose arrogance and lack of knowledge of his enemy cost him the match. The crowd cheered in unison, giving its unanimous acceptance of yet another excellent fight, bound to be remembered for generations to come.

Swiftly wiping copious amounts of sweat from her forehead, Yang looked down upon her beaten opponent, briefly acknowledging him for providing a worthy challenge, often so rare among the grunts of the Grimm or her less skilled classmates.

"Better luck next time," she breathed out with a small smile, promptly turning her back and walking away from the kneeling form of her opponent.

"There's not going to be a next time, blondie".

As if on cue, the entire arena appeared to grow silent. Honed by years of training, Yang's instincts caused her to freeze in her tracks, and rapidly single out the only possible source of the comeback, and thus, the only possible threat. She looked over her shoulder to confirm her suspicion, and sure enough, here came Mercury Black, lunging forward, poised to deliver a brutal kick bound to deplete whatever was left of her aura, and perhaps take her own life with it.

 _Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, huh? Well, bring it, pal, I got a fist full o' shotgun just aching to make your acquaintance!_

Turning around and bringing her fist over in a large arc, she prepared to intercept the leg of her attacker. Oh, how utterly _glorious_ would it be to put this punk in his place, Yang fantasized. Not only would she be the rightful harbinger of justice, but she would be celebrated as a paragon. A role model for millions to aspire to, much in the way she once did so many years back. She was always confident in her abilities and sure of her intentions to lead a life of adventure, yet always felt she'd never shy away from fame were it to come her way. After all, heroes tended to become legend.

Mercury closed the distance rapidly, yet was not fast enough. Her fist connected, Ember Celica's usual report resonating within her ears, almost musical in nature.

However, the sound that immediately followed that of her beloved armament was one she never anticipated, and one she would hope to never hear again.

The impact was meaty, the noise it made akin to flesh being beaten, yet multiplied tenfold. Accompanying the hideous blast was another unexpected quality: liquid. It coated her hand, and felt warm as it splashed over her right arm and torso.

When she expected praise and fanfare, only leering and screaming followed the wake of her punch. She stood dumbfounded: had she not just defended herself from what had amounted to the defeated lashing out childishly against the victor? What sort of justice was there in condemning those who upheld the rules? Her train of thought slowly stabilized as she once again became conscious of the odd liquid that covered her arm and sides.

The ordeal was not yet over, as another one of her senses was overpowered, against all of her attempts to control them.

 _My god… That smell…_

Being a huntress, accidents in combat were commonplace. While one's aura would negate the grand majority of them, there was always a small percentage that got through the vital layer of protection all beings with a soul possessed. And that _smell_ would accompany only the worst of these, when things _truly_ got out of hand. She painstakingly made the realization she hoped she never had to, but was nonetheless forced to in the face of overwhelming evidence.

 _It's… blood…_

Frightened, she looked down, and allowed her eyes to feast upon the fruits of her labor. It was only now she realized, cynically, that she expected a cry of pain from the man she fought. She expected him to writhe on the floor of the arena, his pain serving as payment for his actions. As soon as that thought formed, she amended it: he would never speak, move, or feel ever again.

There, before her, lay Mercury Black, pool of deep crimson pooling around him, soaking into his gray and black attire. The entire top portion of his head had been unceremoniously obliterated, leaving only the stump of his neck.

It was truly impressive what a shotgun could do to a man's head at point-blank range.

Looking down at the huntsman's lifeless corpse, she reckoned it looked oddly… peaceful. His limbs, which had tried to kill her only a few seconds earlier, now stood motionless, splayed by his sides, bringing her a sadistic sort of relief. Once the morbid juxtaposition formed in her thoughts, she felt horrified by it. Horrified by the fact that she associated the two so effortlessly, almost as a natural impulse. Was she going insane _already?_

As she stood there, dumbstruck, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what she had just done, the screams from the audience only seemed to intensify. They were all-encompassing, wailing like the souls of the damned. She frantically looked among the audience, attempting to find her teammates. Surely they saw what truly happened, Yang promised herself.

 _Surely, they'll understand it was necessary… right?_

Once she found them among the turmoil, she wished she could never lay her eyes upon them again, however heretical that notion seemed to her most basic instincts.

Ruby, her dear sister, lay slumped in her chair, clearly fainted. Weiss seemed caught between helping her partner and understanding the situation, her gaze shifting rapidly between their unconscious leader and the bloodshed before them. Blake only stared, seemingly into her very being. She stood completely still, mouth agape and amber eyes wide open, almost appearing to leave their sockets. She contemplated the scene as if she remembered something she had desperately hoped to forget.

She wanted to collapse. She wanted to sob. More than anything, she wanted to approach her team and reassure them that what she had done, however brutal, was purely in self-defense.

 _Hmph. As if that'll changed the fact that you just murdered this poor kid,_ a corner of Yang's mind spoke, in judgement to the remainder that had taken Mercury's life.

Her body refused to move. She swore she could hear footsteps behind her. Several sets of them, actually. Some of these even sounded metallic. As she pondered this, she felt a sharp impact on her lower back, and her field of vision was reduced, in the span of a few seconds, from the vastness of the tournament arena to the cold floor of the ground she once stood upon. Her limbs convulsed and contorted wildly on their own accord, spikes of pain surging throughout her entire nerves. As she slowly lost consciousness, she heard a harsh voice boom behind her.

"Yang Xiao Long, you are under arrest! Stand down!

* * *

Blake could only watch in abject horror as the scene unfolded before her. There lay Yang, her partner and perhaps her best friend, tased and surrounded by Atlas troops, with the lifeless carcass of Mercury Black, victim to the wrath of the former, collapsed beside her.

All of this was starting to seem _way_ too familiar.

After the match had ended, Yang appeared to briefly nod at her opponent, mere seconds before turning heel and pulverizing his head without any hint of remorse. In fact, she swore she saw Yang smirk before delivering the lethal blow.

This would not have been the first person Blake lost to ruthlessness. During her tenure in the White Fang, her partner, Adam, had initially been a source of guidance, a mentor, and even even a sort of companion, to her. Slowly, however, he became more reckless, much like the ideology of the organization she once so thoroughly agreed with. He became more aggressive, more fanatical, and much less empathetic. He did so gradually, enough so to the point where Blake actually accepted his course of action as exemplary, only coming to realize that his partner had become a monster all too late. Even though Adam was still an unfeeling person at heart, she had grown to tolerate him out of necessity.

Yang, on the other hand, was the most amicable human she had ever met (which was saying much, due to how much she had been discriminated against in her past, and how much she used to despise Remnant's dominant race). She barely batted an eye upon realizing her Faunus heritage, and had worked hard to ensure her emotional well-being, especially after the incident at the docks. And now, almost as if possessed, she became a cold blooded murderer.

 _At least Adam had the decency to provide ample warning._

Her mind was a maelstrom of emotion, impossibly indecisive. She felt extremely worried for her blonde teammate, now being hauled by one of the robots accompanying the soldiers into a Atlas Navy dropship that had landed in the middle of the arena. Simultaneously, she also felt satisfied at the removal of a major threat to the integrity of the tournament, and by extension, to Remnant's way of life. Anger gradually welled up within her, furious at her teammate for betraying her, the rest of RWBY, and the entirety of Beacon in what amounted to unprovoked manslaughter.

She would have continued mentally berating Yang had Weiss, sitting to her left, not attempted to snap her out of her trance by repeatedly shoving a single hand into her shoulder.

"Come on, Blake, we can't just stay here. We have to move, now!" Weiss urged her on, already in front of her unconscious leader, as if preparing to lift her.

Returning to the issue at hand, Blake blinked repeatedly and shook her head violently in an attempt to clear her mind. With practiced ease, she stopped thinking as a victim, and began to return to the mindset of a true huntress.

 _With such a high amount of people in such a panicked state, there's no way the damned Grimm didn't take notice. Sooner or later they'll―_

Almost as if willed into existence by her very thoughts, her feline ears detected the distant screech of a Nevermore, no doubt stirred by the utter chaos the colosseum had become enveloped in. She focused harder. No, it wasn't just a single one, she corrected: there were dozens of them. No, there were _hundreds._ The more she became attuned with the horrendous cry of the avian Grimm, the more of them seemed to appear, the entire flock headed towards Amity colosseum, packed with thousands of unarmed civilian spectators.

* * *

 **A/N** **:**

Anyways, here's the first chapter of my new project. Bit of an idea I had in the weeks of mini-hiatus following Chapter 6, inspired by alternate history novels and World War Z. So, as one might expect, even more shit will hit the fan, so look forward to that. I will do my best to keep author notes at a minimum, so I'll only have important things to say here :P

So far, I'll have no fixed schedule on this: chapters will be released as they are finished and edited, and time between them will vary, so expect that. They will usually come out on Fridays or weekends, so maybe keep an eye out for that.

Aside from that, any reviews and feedback are highly appreciated, and I hope this will be at least remotely enjoyable.

Peace out till next time.


	2. Treacherous Skies

_Screams. Wails. Shrieks…_

As Ruby slowly regained her consciousness, the world around her clarified at an equally languid pace. The darkness retreated ever so slightly, revealing the scene in front of her. A white figure made frantic gestures at another, her exasperated calls drowned in the cacophony of the stadium.

Said white figure—which Ruby now recognized as Weiss—jerked her head rapidly towards her, her long ponytail trailing behind her head.

"Finally, you're awake!" she yelled, struggling to overcome the crowd's screams.

Ruby blinked rapidly, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Wh-wha… What's going on?"

Blake walked up to Ruby, taking a glance over her shoulder before responding. "We've got Nevermores incoming. Probably an entire flock, by the sounds of it. We're stuck here with a couple thousand civilians until we can get air support." She reached down towards Ruby, grasping her limp hand.

 _Blake… Weiss…_

 _Wait…_

 _Yang?_

She shot up from the chair, shoving her teammates aside. She darted her head around, searching for the distinct, familiar mane of bright yellow hair. However, as her gaze fell upon the center of the stadium, her eyes widened and throat retched.

Surrounded by an ever expanding pool of deep crimson, Mercury Black's broken form sprawled on the light gray metal of the tournament arena. The spotlights hanging above remained on, bathing the scene in a serene, yet macabre light. Red footprints ringed the carnage, trailing off to a pair of carbon-black scorch marks.

Suddenly, the previous minutes all came flooding back. The cheers. The punch. The screams…

 _Why?_ Ruby asked herself, mouth agape and hands numb. _How… how could she have?_

"Come on, Ruby! We have to calm these people down!" Weiss shouted, snapping her out of her musing. "There are no shields on the stadium's landing bays, so as soon as those things show up, they will—"

A deafening screech rang out from above, silencing Weiss mid-sentence. They snapped their heads upwards, spotting a dozen Nevermores perched on the colosseum's edge. Peering into the arena with hungry, red eyes, they stabbed at the protective barrier, waves of pure energy shooting across it as it buckled under their assault.

Alarms wailed across the colosseum, underscoring the hellish thrashing of the energy shield above. Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed across the arena, calm and toneless in spite of the chaos.

"Alert. Incoming Grimm attack. Threat level: 10. Remain calm, and wait for escort into a safe area," the recording droned on. The overhead shield flashed an ominous red, as scores of Nevermores plunged their beaks into it. High above, hundreds more circled in the night, waiting like vultures to swoop on their prey.

"Those shields won't hold for long! Get inside the hallways, now!" Blake shouted out, urging the panicking crowd to safety. She glanced back up, turned around, and cursed. "What the hell's taking the military so long?"

"Don't worry," Weiss replied, extracting her scroll from one of her belt pouches. "I have contacts who can get hold of Atlas High Command." She held it in front of her face, typing frantically with a shaking right thumb.

"Better make it quick!" Ruby cried, pointing upwards. "Look!"

The Nevermores formed a ring of black around the top of the stadium, broken only by the glowing flares of their eyes. The barrier screamed and convulsed, every flash deeper and redder than the last.

As she looked back down, her eyes met with Blake's. The two stared at each other, nodded, and took out their weapons. As Crescent Rose unfurled with a series of whirrs and clicks, a single, sharp slash revealed Gambol Shroud's blade.

"I'll take the right, you take the left," Blake yelled over the din.

"Got it!" Ruby shouted back, dashing off in a swirling cloud of rose petals. Blake broke off as Weiss trailed behind Ruby, screaming at an operator in angry Atlesian.

"Just stay inside those tunnels!" Ruby yelled. "We're calling for help! Stay put, and we'll all make it out alive!"

With a practiced spin and twirl of her scythe, she stabbed Crescent Rose into the concrete. She tilted her head into its scope, craning up towards the black mass of Grimm and setting her sights on a Nevermore's forehead. The creature bellowed, its four, enraged eyes zeroed on the huntress.

As the last of the crowd drained away into the tunnels, the arena grew eerily quiet. Ruby lifted her head from her sights, looking around the near-barren colosseum. Scattered about the empty seats, a ragtag group of defenders remained behind. Hunters, police officers, soldiers, and even gangsters, weapons raised and heads trained on the flock.

 _Here they come._

With a final spasm and retch, the overhead shield collapsed. The Nevermores dived over the edge, unleashing harrowing cry that echoed across the arena. The defenders below opened fire, a symphony of rifles to intercept the monsters in descent.

* * *

If all hell hadn't broken loose before, something Emerald had too much trouble believing, it certainly had now. The roars of both gunfire and the Grimm pierced her ears, even as she plunged her fingers into them. The ground shook, the crowd's screams only adding to the chaos.

Cinder's plan had been perfect. All possible outcomes meticulously accounted for with a separate procedure of their own. Even the most outlandish possibilities had been considered, much to Mercury's amusement. Such precautions were a necessity when working with unknown variables, however predictable they may seem to the untrained eye; that much Cinder had drilled into them for months.

 _So much for that,_ Emerald thought. Her employer had probably left Amity's airspace, escaped with the short mute Neo under the guise of two nurses, just as planned. She had no idea where they were now. Last night's discussion came rushing back into her mind.

" _And what if it doesn't work? What then?"_

" _Think of it this way: If it doesn't, then you have no right to know."_

Her scroll began to vibrate in her pocket, as if summoned by her thoughts. She took it out and flicked it open, revealing Cinder on the device's transparent screen. Fidgeting, she brought it to her ear.

"N-now what? How am I gonna get off this thing!?" Emerald shrieked into the scroll.

"What a waste. Such potential…" Cinder meandered. "I thought we were clear about this, Emerald. Apparently, I wasn't clear enough." Her voice, deceptively sweet, was packed with unfathomable venom.

"W-wait, you're coming back, right?" Emerald sputtered, her voice cracking despite her attempts against it.

"Now, I'm sure you remember what I told you about conserving our assets. We're thin on manpower as it is, only… exacerbated… by Roman's untimely capture. We're in no room to account for liabilities, and after the show you just put on, it may be just better to leave you behind. To tie up loose ends," she continued, as Emerald's shoulders sagged deeper with every word. "After all, you already did half the job for us."

"But I didn't kill him! That… that…" she stuttered, grasping for words.

"Oh, darling, you think like the sheep. So good at deception you actually managed to fool yourself," she said, making it sound like a heartfelt compliment. "Yang may have pulled the trigger, but you gave her the gun. She acted on _your_ behalf. Remember that." The signal was cut, a monotonous beeping left in its wake.

As she put down the scroll, the cries and whimpers of the crowd washed over her once again. Yet, she paid them no mind. Her knees trembled, buckled, and collapsed onto the cold, hard steel.

Outside, three successive explosions rocked the hallway. The overhead lamps flickered and died, plunging the crowded passageway into darkness. The cries turned to shrieks and the whimpers turned to shouts.

 _So this is how it ends, huh?_ Emerald mused to herself, tears starting to form upon her dark red eyes.

* * *

Ruby took aim and worked Crescent Rose's bolt, ejecting a spent armor-piercing round and chambering in the next. She spun to the left, bringing a Nevermore's eye under her crosshairs. She halted, breathed in, and fired.

The beast howled, rearing its head back as it began to rise, sweeping its enormous wings back and forth. Yet, as it turned back towards the sky, a rocket snaked through the air above Ruby. The fireball swept across its back, the creature screaming as it spiraled into the arena below.

"Hell yeah!" someone whooped from behind. She yanked the bolt back again, tossed away the empty clip, and slotted in another.

Across the entire colosseum, Nevermore after Nevermore collapsed, lifeless and smoking. Yet, every one that fell was replaced by two more, swooping in from the neverending flock above. They dove over the defenders, raining down flurries of massive, sharpened feathers. Low human screams mingled with high Grimm shrieks, an infernal discord that pierced Ruby to her core.

As she zeroed in on a Nevermore on the far side of the stadium, three pink flashes arced across its flank. It stalled in midair, staggering as a golden disk sliced across its wing. The beast crumpled into a smoking heap, revealing two huntresses standing amongst the bleachers, backs to each other and weapons raised.

 _Nora! Pyrrha!_ She breathed a sigh of relief. _Glad to know we have reliable company._

Rapid footsteps off to her right tore her away from her scope. Raising her head, she saw Blake, bounding past her towards Weiss.

"Any news on that squadron?" she shouted over the hellish din.

"All available fighters have already scrambled elsewhere!" Weiss grunted back, blocking a hail of razor-sharp feathers with a solid wall of ice. "We may have thousands here, but there's millions down there who need more help than we do!"

Blake cursed under her breath, sprinting off back from where she came. Turning back to her sights, Ruby squeezed the trigger once again, and another Nevermore wailed in pain.

 _They_ must _have a few fighters to spare… right?_ she wondered. _With a flock this big, we won't be able to get anyone off!_

As she swung her rifle onto another Grimm, a gust of air knocked her off balance, and a mighty crash dropped her onto her knees. A long shadow then draped across the concrete, blotting out the colosseum's lights. Snapping her head around, she locked eyes with a screeching Nevermore, eyes widened and throat clenched.

As the beast's beak shot downward, Ruby dashed to the right, leaving a fluttering cloud of petals in her wake. The massive creature squirmed and howled, its beak lodged into the ground. With a running start, she hopped onto the Grimm's back, raising Crescent Rose above its exposed neck. As she brought it down with a throat-splitting scream, the Nevermore jerked its massive head backwards, sending Ruby careening down the length of its spine.

"Lucky hit…!" she gritted, twirling her scythe and stabbing it into its back. The monster roared, sweeping its wings back and forth.

Just as it began to lift, three blasts of Dust slammed into its right wing, encasing it in a thick layer of ice and staggering the beast back to the ground.

"Now!" Weiss screamed, Myrtenaster glowing a dull blue.

Ruby grinned, bounding and leaping across the Nevermore's back. Slicing through the air with a scream to match her owner's, Crescent Rose plunged deep into the beast's nape.

Once more, the Grimm cried in pain, the howl turning into a gurgle as the blade bisected its throat. Ruby stood up and angled the barrel downwards, a malevolent grin splayed across her face as she squeezed the trigger. The beast retched and gurgled, each successive round burying itself deeper and deeper into its skull. Finally, a dry click answered her next pull, as the monster below her gave its last, dying spasm.

"You were always fond of overkill," Weiss sighed as she walked towards the smoking corpse, free hand on her hip.

"Guess so…" Ruby panted, her grin evaporating alongside her fading adrenaline. She coughed as the Nevermore sizzled beneath her, inhaling a gulp of thick, black smoke.

As she clambered off the carcass, Blake leaped over it, rolling to a stop between her two teammates. She gazed off to the side, ears perking up under her ribbon.

"I heard something. Southward, headed here fast," she said, eyes narrowing. Both Weiss and Ruby stared, dumbfounded.

"You don't mean…" Weiss returned, her gaze meeting Ruby's. Over the din of the battle, they heard a low, rising hum.

 _No… More Nevermores?_ Ruby thought, trembling. Then, as the hum grew to a loud, steady shriek, her eyes widened.

 _An engine! Jet fighters!_

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a demonic cacophony erupted from behind. The Nevermores above her exploded in scores, as a torrent of missiles flooded the arena. Bright streams of tracers scythed through the air, each Grimm they encountered eviscerated in a cloud of smoke and blood. Several grey streaks shot through the smokescreen, followed by an ear-piercing boom.

Cheers swept across the stadium as the barrage ended, corpses raining down in smoking heaps. Ruby and her teammates stared, mouths agape, as the remains of the flock rose out of the colosseum and into the night. As the whine of the jet engines receded into the distance, the PA system crackled back to life.

"This is Ebony-1, Atlas Air Force, to everyone currently within Amity Colosseum," said a guttural, female voice. "All civilians and students are urged to move towards the transport bays for immediate evac. Any personnel of the Atlas Armed Forces are under direct orders from General Ironwood to remain in the colosseum until the area is secured. Ebony Squadron out."

As the loudspeakers switched off, the far-off whine rose to a scream. More streams of Dust rounds slammed into the lumbering Nevermores, met again with whoops from below.

Ruby's eyes drifted as her breathing slowed, settling on the central platform beneath her. Where Mercury's body once lay, scattered chunks of flesh remained. A trail of blood led off the edge and onto the metal below, where a Nevermore's half-decayed carcass laid smoking.

Head hung, Ruby turned to her two teammates. "Well, looks like our work here is done," she breathed. "We need to get back to Beacon."

Blake and Weiss shared a quick glance before nodding. They stepped into the hallways, leaving the stutter of scattered gunfire behind them. The three walked in silence, their echoing footsteps the only sounds in the emptied tunnels.

 _Why… Why did it have to come to this…_

They went down the last flight of stairs, coming up to the rear of the crowd. Through the sea of heads, Ruby spotted the bulking frame of an airship, much larger and angular than the conventional transport. It lowered itself onto the docking catwalk, the mass of people surging forth as its ramp descended.

The three made a staggering journey through the crowd, bumping past those too slow to keep up with the tide. As they shoved past a pair of tall, suited men, Ruby heard a murmur from behind.

"Hey, aren't those the pals of the crazy bitch back there?"

Blake spun around, eyes flaring and fists clenched. Ruby grasped her arm, tugging her back as the crowd pulled them apart. Yet, before she could turn back, several cries rose from the people around them.

"Nevermore!"

The lumbering beast hovered between them and the transport, the sweeps of its wings growing ever larger. Ruby tried to grasp her weapon, but was hemmed in between two panicking women. Weiss, to her left, extracted Myrtenaster and aimed it at the Grimm, firing off a trio of ice blasts. Yet, as they arced over the crowd, the Nevermore reared back its wings, and brought them down with a monstrous blast of wind.

A volley of feathers knifed through the air, slicing into the masses beneath as shrieks rose from all around. The woman to Ruby's right screamed, a thick, plumed shaft jutting out from her belly. The blasts of ice finally reached the Grimm, enveloping its tail in a solid layer of ice. It stalled and plummeted, its screech joining that of those who fell to the distant ground below.

She stood still, legs locked, boots surrounded by an expanding pool of crimson. The smell of blood overpowered her, a tidal wave that surged over her senses. The screams, curses, and shouts all blended together into a harrowing wail, her mind numbed under its hellish cry.

From ahead, a single shout pierced the din. "Transport's almost full! Get a fucking move on, you lugs, or another one of those things is gonna show up!"

The crowd lumbered forth once again, Ruby staggering forward as the people behind pushed. Her slogging brought her through the middle of the carnage, corpse after corpse skewered on the tilted, bloody feathers. One of the bodies moved as she shambled past, a weak, trembling hand grasping her leg with surprising strength.

"Please…" the voice croaked, an old man impaled to the ground through his chest. His eyes were fixed on Crescent Rose, stowed on its sheath on Ruby's back. "It hurts… it hurts…"

"Ruby! Come on!" Weiss called out, stepping onto the catwalk leading to barge, Blake in tow. She stepped forward, tugging her leg away from the dying man. As she stepped onto the transport's ramp, half a dozen soldiers cut off the crowd, curses and cries coming from behind. An alarm in the barge began to wail, the ramp starting to lift as hydraulic pistons retracted.

The inside of the barge was packed, a wall of heads and torsos surrounding her as she was jammed into a corner. The deck beneath her feet shuddered, and the airship's engines came alive with a roar. Acceleration pressed her into the metal, Crescent Rose's sheath jamming into her back.

Murmurs and whimpers filled the stunned silence of the hangar. Lulled by the quiet, Ruby's mind began to wander. She thought back to Mercury, killed onstage by her own sister.

 _I..._

She thought back to the woman, pierced at her side as she simply watched.

 _I… I…_

She thought back to the old man, begging with his final breaths for a quicker end.

 _I couldn't save them… I failed…_

Her vision blurred and her throat tightened. Her knees crumpled as she slid down the hull onto the floor. Eyes stinging, she cupped her face in her hands, and wept.


	3. Encaged

To Yang, the open area of the inmate visitor center was a welcomed change from her cramped cell in the hold of an Atlas frigate. She had never been fond of enclosed spaces, and the condition she was held in did nothing to sway her affection.

According to one of the two soldiers tasked with guarding her, it had been two days since the events at the colosseum. He'd been reluctant to give up any information regarding the status of the rest of her team, only adding to her ever increasing amounts of anxiety and desperation.

The fact that she sat alone before a glass partition in a room designed to allow high-risk prisoners to meet with loved ones took some of her worries off her shoulder, enough to make her believe that things might actually take a turn for the better. Ever since she had woken up in a room small enough to qualify as a closet, she had plenty of time to think about recent events; way too much time, she thought sourly. It had probably been the first time she had cried herself to sleep since the long past days of her childhood in Patch.

 _And it sure as hell won't be the last,_ she amended. How her friends and family would trust her after this, if at all, was beyond her; she couldn't even trust herself.

The door on the other side of the partition slid open with a silent hiss, revealing the figures behind it. Flanked by two faceless Atlas Navy robots, black bow sitting atop her head, Blake walked into the room and sat on the chair opposite to Yang's with a noncommittal sigh. The two bots, these painted a dark gray to differentiate them from their Army equivalents, stepped in immediately after and stood menacingly at either side of the door as it closed.

Relieved by the presence of her partner, Yang flashed her a quick smile. However, Blake's expression remained impassive, and instead of returning the gesture, she opted for leaning back and crossing her legs.

A small frown grew across Yang's face as she studied the Faunus on the other side of the bulletproof glass. _This is gonna suck,_ she thought as her partner now crossed her arms, amber eyes burning into Yang's very being.

Hoping to steer things her way by taking the initiative, Yang spoke up, her voice struggling to come out as a result of over two days away from extended human interaction. "I-it's nice to see you, Blake," she stuttered. "Are Weiss and Ruby alright?"

"They're fine," Blake answered tonelessly, her posture unmoving.

Yang looked down at the dull gray floor of the chamber, injured by the emotionless response, as the silence left in the wake of her teammate's answer grew to a crushing degree of emptiness. Sighing again, Blake leaned forward while uncrossing both her arms and legs, wresting the control of the conversation away from her partner.

"I didn't come all the way up here to watch you stare at floor, Yang. Tell me what happened." Her tone raised slightly, yet her words slowed to accentuate her point.

"What? Isn't it obvious?" she followed up as she raised her head to meet her friend's cold gaze.

"The fact that you just killed a fellow huntsman in cold blood? Don't play coy with me. Practically all of Remnant knows."

 _Cold blood?_ She could already tell where their exchange was headed, and she didn't like it one bit.

"But he attacked me! I-I had to do something!"

Blake narrowed her eyes in disbelief as she leaned in even closer to the glass dividing them. After a few seconds of silent thought, Blake opened her mouth once again: "First you avoid the subject, and now you _lie_ to me?" she said while packing inhuman amounts of scorn into the word.

"Y-you don't believe me?" Yang whimpered, her eyes and throat burning as she spoke.

Blake cast her gaze downwards attempting to regain her composure. Clearly, this was just as hard on her as it was on her blonde teammate, however much her expressions denied it. Taking a long breath, she looked up once more and answered quietly: "I want to believe you."

Of all the people Yang had hoped would guide her through this tragedy, Blake was always the first one that came to mind. Even though the Faunus was highly reserved, she considered her to be her closest friend. Any doubt or insecurity she might have, Blake was always quick to help. Now, however, one of her largest sources of confidence had ran dry; her best friend now against her.

"B-Blake?" It came out as barely a whisper, her sobs already beginning to drown out her words. Her vision blurred as tears ran freely from her lilac eyes, drawing long lines across her cheeks.

"I know what I saw, Yang, and so do millions more. After fully draining his aura, you simply walked away, turned heel, and killed him right where he stood," Blake retorted, her matter-of-factly tone now turning accusatory.

"No… No… Blake, he..." she sputtered, completely refusing to accept Blake's statement. She was confused, saddened, _furious,_ at the fact that anyone could have possibly misinterpreted the incident, especially Blake, renowned for her excellent perception skills. Too much had occurred for all of this to have been some illusion, Yang reckoned.

 _No… I know what_ really _happened._

Rising from her perch on the chair and setting both hands on the glass' metallic base, she erupted, her irises changing hue to blood-red. "He lunged at me! Attacked me! I couldn't possibly have dodged that in time. What was I supposed to do? Just… stand there and take it!?"

Blake appeared shocked by her sudden outburst, her eyes widening as she skillfully analyzed Yang's face for any minute detail that might give information away. "You're... not kidding…" she muttered, more to herself than to her enraged partner only about a meter away.

"Not kidding?! Why would I ever lie to you, Blake!?" Yang screamed as her vocal cords tensed within her throat. "Did you think this was all some sort of sick joke? _Do they say I'm a murderer?!_ "

Blake's facade shattered under Yang's ranting. Her once-dominant, judgemental stare weakened as her posture shrank and her eyes began to shimmer.

"So what is it, huh? Answer me, you fucking animal!" Yang bellowed, slamming her left fist into the partition. The two robots near the door raised their rifles in warning; their lack of sentience would make them shoot Yang at the first sign of rebellious action, with none of the hesitation a regular human would have shown.

"Prisoner number 01928: Stand down," the two androids rumbled in unison, their unfeeling voices complementing their equally expressionless visors.

Her knees trembled and her eyes reverted to their normal color as she realized what she just had done. Before her sat Blake, her partner and best friend, recoiling from one of the worst possible insults a Faunus could receive.

 _No, no, no… How could I have…_ Her legs failed, causing her to tumble back into her chair as her tears returned in the absence of fury.

Her teammate across from her wasn't faring any better. She looked off to the side, biting her lip and shutting her eyes in a vain attempt to suppress her emotions. A single drop broke free, dragging itself down her face, hanging on her jawline for a brief second, and finally dropping to the metal below.

Eyes reddened with unshed tears, Blake turned to face Yang again, who was now weeping openly into her lap, the last of her energy spent on her unexpected tirade. "It's just… This is all too familiar," she said, her voice on the verge of cracking. "I've already lost someone like this. Someone dear to me has already gone down this path. I don't want the same thing to happen to you."

Yang looked up from her now-soaked thighs, her whimpers lessening rapidly at her teammate's sudden change in attitude.

Setting her right hand on the cold glass as if to reach out for her partner's shoulder, Blake continued: "Look, I'm sorry. I trust you, I always have. This is all just happening too quickly, and… and I want to make sure you're alright. I want to make sure my trust wasn't misplaced. That the Yang I know is still in there somewhere."

As she slowly regained control over herself with long, controlled breaths, Yang brought up a trembling left hand to meet Blake's on the other side of the partition. She was so close, yet so impossibly far. She couldn't avoid breaking down again.

"I just… need you to look me in the eye and tell me he really attacked you," Blake whispered reassuringly, her voice soothing Yang's panicking mind. "Please..."

Her blond haired teammate raised her head gently, facing her partner's desperate eyes. Her voice emerging as a stuttering wreck, she slowly formed the words she so hopelessly wanted to say, yet barely could against her aching throat: "He… He attacked me. I striked back. I-I never wanted to kill him. I swear, I… I… I'm _sorry, I didn't.._."

Leaving a cloudy mist on the surface before her with a satisfied sigh, Blake withdrew her hand and leaned back into her chair, smiling slightly. Yang followed her motions shortly thereafter, both girls simply glad they had reached a rudimentary understanding.

"We need you down there, Yang. _I_ need you," the Faunus said into the drawn-out silence. Her partner wiped tears from her face with the back of her hand, a small, relieved grin replacing the frown on her lips.

On that note, she got up from her chair and turned towards the entrance she had come in from, the door parting as she approached it. Before she stepped out, she looked back over her shoulders towards a much more relaxed Yang, now looking back with confidence instead of despair.

"We'll get you out of here. I promise," she added before walking out into the hallway beyond, the two robots tailing her. The metallic door slid shut one more time, plunging the room into the same dull silence Yang had become so accustomed to.

" _Thank you, Blake,"_ Yang quietly whispered to herself as the presence of her partner was diminished to distant footsteps.

* * *

Beacon's library buzzed with the usual activity of an early Sunday afternoon. Students catching up on readings and studies, others furiously attempting to finish overdue assignments, and many more simply wishing to use the vast hall to relax or enjoy time with friends. The circumstances, however, could not have been more different.

Almost two days after the disaster at Amity colosseum, many were still reeling in the shock of the event. Those who had been present told the gruesome tale to those fortunate enough to have stayed behind, many breaking down in tears as they attempted to reopen the still-fresh wound.

Yet most students had chosen to cope alone. With classes and the tournament suspended by the Vale council, they certainly would have plenty of time to recover. Weiss Schnee was one of these, choosing the library as a quiet place in which to pass away the idle hours.

 _We could have saved them… We just weren't good enough._ That sentiment had taken hold of most, if not all, of the huntsmen and huntresses who fought back at the arena, Ruby in particular. Her partner and leader had fallen into a depression so utterly unlike her cheerful nature, one so deep she rarely spoke and often asked to be left alone in their dorm. Any measures taken by Weiss and Blake seemed to have no effect whatsoever, even with the former reassuring her that she was not to blame and the latter fighting her way through Atlas military bureaucracy just to meet with the missing member of their team.

Letting out a long sigh, Weiss turned her head up to look at the holographic monitor before her, sitting atop one of the many tables that lined the bottom floor of the two-story building. Unlike most students around her, desperately trying to distract themselves from the crisis brewing around them, Weiss was fully dedicated to scraping up as much information on the fighting as she could; she was, after all, the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, giving her special clearance to many reports that would never reach the public eye. With how the situation was spiraling out of control, the media had been suspiciously quiet on the matter. She was, however, determined to remain informed for the sake of those she aimed to protect.

The news feed on the browser window on the monitor in front of her, usually always buzzing with the latest events in Vale and the rest of Remnant, now remained conspicuously empty. Small text below the images accompanying the headlines proclaimed the last update had been three days ago. At least, that was the case for the _public_ news channels.

Weiss extracted her scroll from her pocket and inserted it into a terminal to the right of the display. As soon as the device registered the identity of the scroll's owner, the hologram screen dimmed as bright lettering appeared over the window:

 _Hello, Ms. Schnee._

After the text dissapeared and the screen returned to its regular brightness, a small panel opened up on the desk in front of her, revealing a compact retinal scanner. She then hovered over the aperture, left eye peering into the small camera which began its scan. The device beneath her beeped for a few seconds, satisfied that it had matched the intricacies of Weiss's clear blue eyes with official SDC records. The same panel then closed, and the display on the screen now requested a lengthy passcode.

Inserting the required string of letters and numbers was the work of a few seconds and some deft strokes on the holographic keyboard. The Schnee Dust Company took security _extremely_ seriously. Most fanaticallyEspecially so when it came to classified information.

Taking a deep breath, Weiss looked at the most recent documents on the display. Unlike the media the majority of Remnant's population was accustomed to, the intelligence sector of the SDC collected data through direct reports, with everything from monthly corporate statistics to military debriefs. In the absence of conventional media, the combined militaries of the four kingdoms now used this vast intel network to coordinate a war that now spanned the entirety of Remnant.

 _One that yesterday was just a rumor,_ Weiss thought to herself solemnly. Over the course of mankind's history, never before had conflicts ignited this quickly, and seldom had they reached global scale.

After taking a quick look over her shoulder to scan for any prying eyes, Weiss began to skim through the headlines, taking quick looks into documents with names such as "Southern Mistral trench line suffers heavy losses", "Paladins deployed on Atlas front", and "Heavy fighting in Vale's agricultural district". However, one of the many interesting stories sprinkled throughout the sea of monotony caught her eye: one that read "White Fang insurgents declare war on Vacuo Council; CCT Tower shelled".

She had to blink multiple times to ensure she was reading correctly. Clicking on the report, Weiss read as it described in painstaking detail how the terrorist organization had managed to ambush the Vacuo Militia in the center of the kingdom, as well as how they had begun to bombard the crucial communications tower and lay siege to the Vacuo Parliament. If the report from the undercover Atlas specialist was to be believed, the tower would collapse within the week, and the council overthrown just days later.

The document also contained a second segment, detailing a mass information leak from the Atlas Military, which the White Fang used as its excuse for its uprising. The organization's leader had made it abundantly clear that they would no longer tolerate the 'lies of the regimes', and that they vowed to 'liberate the rightful inheritors of the planet from their human oppressors'. Weiss scoffed as she read through the rest of the manifesto, containing many more poetic descriptions of the plight of the Faunus race, and the bloody justice that was ensured for the humans of Vacuo.

The report's text parted to reveal a blueprint, standard format of the Atlas Robotics Division, the main manufacturer of all the cybernetics currently employed by the kingdom. However, the android displayed was extremely different from all the models Weiss had seen previously.

The outline was that of a young, short-haired girl, a robotic skeleton much akin to a regular human's disguised beneath a layer of metallic alloy and complex wiring. Emblazoned on the image's top left corner were the letters P.E.N.N.Y; what appeared to be the designation for the robot.

 _Wait… Penny?_

Weiss had expected to be worried by the contents of the report; the title alone sent shivers down her spine. Instead, what she got was _much_ worse. The implications of a humanlike android roaming around like a regular huntress were immense, and for a small, fleeting moment, she sympathized with the Faunus extremists. Not only would this directly violate Atlas doctrine on keeping artificial intelligences restricted to utilitarian roles, but the fact that she had participated in the Vytal tournament meant Penny was capable of generating an Aura.

With each realization piling itself onto the last, Weiss became increasingly terrified. Only living beings with a soul possessed an Aura, she remembered, reciting it mentally like an article of faith. Except, Atlas scientists had clearly done the impossible, her reason retorted. Somehow defied nature itself.

 _There's no way her Aura could be generated from scratch… It must come from somewhere._ Weiss mentally listed the possibilities, all of them sending rippling waves of terror across her being.

 _Or someone..._

It was only now that she realized that this bastardization of technology and nature was one of Ruby's closest friends, and had been for almost a year now. If she were to stumble upon this on her own…

The consequences of such a possibility shook Weiss to her very core, yet filled her with determination. _She has to find out eventually,_ Weiss reasoned, her mind just starting to calm from the startling news. Deeming it best to finish the report at a later time, she downloaded the file to her scroll, purged the computer's memory banks before ejecting her device from the terminal, and departed the quiet library with resolve in her stride.

Beacon's usually busy hallways were completely devoid of students or teachers, leaving the clacking of Weiss's heels to resonate in isolation against the walls that enveloped her. Walking in reflexive silence back to her dorm took merely a few minutes, her mind becoming distracted as she travelled the memorized route. Once upon the entrance of her dorm, she rapped lightly on the white wood of the door and called out to its single occupant.

"Hey, Ruby. Mind if I come in?" Weiss asked softly. Even through the wall that separated them, she would have no trouble hearing her request in the silence of the chamber beyond.

"Go ahead," Ruby mumbled in way of reply. Opening the door, Weiss saw her partner leaning on the bookshelf between their bunk beds, staring out the open window into a setting sun. As winter approached, sunset came earlier, painting the inner walls of the dorm room a light orange hours before it would have in the summer.

"So… How are you holding up?" Weiss asked, her tones begging her leader to follow up on her question.

"Alright, I guess," she answered with a shrug. "Could be better... We all could be," she continued mournfully, shifting her gaze to her boots.

Weiss opened her mouth to retort with yet another comment on how the deaths of the civilians on Amity weren't her fault, yet closed it as she reminded herself of her reasons for intruding on Ruby's depressive wallowing. She struggled to initiate the conversation, failing to think of a proper opening without worsening the already tense situation.

Ruby's patience running thin, she turned her head slightly towards her partner after twenty seconds of silence had passed. "So are you just gonna stand there or what?" she spat out, her partner wincing at the venom her words carried.

"It's… about Penny," the heiress stuttered. Caught off guard, Ruby's vice-like grip on the bookshelf loosened. Her posture straightened and her voice now took on a more inquisitive tone, sounding much more like the leader Weiss was so accustomed to.

"Wha– what about her?" Now she turned to fully face her white haired teammate, the golden arc of the sun framing her head in its center. "Is she alright?" Weiss detected small hints of worry in her words, and even though the glare of the sun obscured her face, she swore she saw her lips form a frown.

"No, no, she's alright. It's just…"

Once again, the report she read in the library came to mind. In that moment, she attempted to hastily gauge Ruby's current expression, her eyes narrowing as she attempted to block out the sun's piercing rays. Her teammate took immediate notice of this, causing her to tilt her head sideways in curiosity at her partner's behavior.

"Is it about the fighting out in the west?" Ruby prompted to the still speechless Weiss. "Don't worry, she can handle herself just fine. We both saw how well she did back in tournament, remember?"

"Not that, either," she replied with slight frustration beginning to form upon her words "She's a… a…"

"A robot?" Ruby offered, almost as if reading Weiss' thoughts. "Yeah, been there, done that. Now, how about you tell me something I _don't_ already know?" A smile slowly grew across her face as she recognized her newly acquired, yet seldom present, mental superiority over her partner.

Weiss' eyes expanded in shock at her leader's revelation. _For just how long has she been hiding this?_ she began to muse, yet quickly stopped herself as she reprioritized her concerns. This had been the first sign of recovery Ruby had made over the last few days, and Weiss wasn't prepared to ruin her potential recuperation by accusing her of withholding information. _Especially_ not due to her own partaking in the very actions she was about to blame Ruby for. Instead, she returned a warm smile.

"Well, how about you teach me some things for a change? I reckon I've done too much of that to you in the past."

At this, her already wide grin only expanded further. Taking a few steps forward and rubbing her palms together in anticipation, she giggled as she began to speak once more, clearly appreciating the shift to a lighter mood: "Oh, Weiss, you and I have a _lot_ to talk about."

Without any hesitation, Weiss stepped forth to meet her partner in the center of the amber-lit room. _Maybe she isn't a lost cause just yet,_ she thought optimistically. Blake would most certainly be pleased to hear about her advances, especially considering her prior meeting with Yang. According to her testimony, the blonde haired girl was deteriorating rapidly, slowly retreating into the abyss of insanity from her isolation on the Atlas vessel.

 _Blake made a promise, after all,_ Weiss mentally reminded herself. _One we will uphold as a team._

"We sure do, Ruby. We sure do".


	4. Landfall

Looking out upon the grand expanse of Beacon Academy and to the even larger city of Vale beyond the cliffs, Professor Ozpin took a quiet sip from his mug of coffee; feeling the liquid within pour down his throat, leaving warmth in its wake. On the docks several hundred meters below, multiple companies of Atlas Navy marines marched into the courtyard in lockstep, their chants echoing their way up the height of Beacon's tower. The academy's airspace was crowded with transport ships, each one belching forth a new batch of troops as the one before it departed.

Although Ozpin was unsettled by their display, their presence was necessary. Atlas scout units had detected an enormous horde of Grimm approaching the school from the mountain range to the north, presumably having detached from the swarm engaged against the northern front. According to intel from the Atlas Navy, the horde had split ten hours prior and was preparing to attack Beacon from both east and west, trapping the academy in the maw of the horde like a pack of wolves surrounding a sheep.

Such an outcome was one Ozpin expected ever since the initial disaster at Amity Colosseum, now docked in its cavernous maintenance mooring deep in Vale's industrial district. With the student body's failure to prevent casualties causing so much fear and regret to emanate from the school, the Grimm could not have chosen a better target. Its loss would deal a killing blow to any hopes of defence, a fact that the Alphas among the horde knew all too well, and one they were willing to exploit as long as they drew breath.

 _Yet we will stand and fight,_ Ozpin promised, tightening his grip around the mug's handle. _And, perhaps, show our enemy what we're capable of._

Professor Goodwitch and General Ironwood stood at his flanks, gazing down at the scene playing out below them. The former looked on with resigned contempt akin that of her fellow professor, while the latter admired the display of power put on by the men and women he once trained.

Glynda crossed her arms and looked right while leaning forward to see past the headmaster. "Remind me, James, just how you are going to fit thousands of personnel into an area designed to accommodate a few hundred, at best," she said in her usual flat tone, one that gave the impression of seemingly perpetual annoyance.

"I'd say that should be the _least_ of your concerns," the General replied, extracting his scroll from his pocket and pacing slowly towards the headmaster's desk. "Especially given our current circumstances." Upon placing his device on the surface of the glass, the room's computer established an interface, displaying a hologram in the center of the room shortly thereafter. A scaled map of Vale appeared before the trio, interlaced with lines of green running on and around the kingdom's borders. Adjacent to these lay large blots of red, representing the hordes of the Grimm, which dwarfed the armies deployed to face them. With a swift gesture of his left hand, the display zoomed in to encompass the area of Beacon Academy, which now showed a much more detailed breakdown of the present units, including individual infantry regiments and the transports which delivered them.

"This merely shows the initial stages of preparation," Ironwood explained after Ozpin settled back into his chair and Glynda took her spot to his right. "If all goes according to plan, we should have multiple battalions stationed in the hills within the hour. The rest will guard the courtyard and tower."

"Are we capable of defending the academy, General? I have full confidence in your forces, yet we are not in any position to take chances," Ozpin asked calmly as Glynda stared expectantly at the General.

Ironwood looked down and clenched his gloved fist before replying: "As much as it pains me to say, we may not be. Not alone, that is." He raised his head and met his comrade's gaze head on. "Oz, we may need your students to intervene. I fully understand if you wish them not to."

At this, Ozpin sighed and rose from his chair, plodded around his desk before stopping directly in front of the General. His posture straight and expression impassive, he locked his brown eyes with Ironwood's deep blue as he spoke: "We find ourselves in desperate times, James, and desperate times call for desperate measures. My students shall stand by your troops, and I'm sure they will be eager to defend their kingdom and their home."

As if summoned by his promise, the elevator shaft in the far side of the office began to rumble, signaling the lift's ascent.

Taken aback by the sudden interruption, Glynda called out to Ozpin, drawing the stares of both men before her: "I thought we weren't getting any visitors. This meeting was supposed to be classified." Ironwood showed his silent agreement with her sentiment by shifting his gaze to Ozpin, bearing an inquisitive look on his face. The headmaster of Beacon academy never tended to change plans, and when he did, there was always an extremely good reason behind it.

Yet, a small frown grew across his face as he spoke up: "Hm. So did I. Well, it must clearly be important, if they managed to get past the guards at the base." Turning on his heel and returning to his desk, he once again sat down before continuing. "General, I believe it might be best to put this off for another time. I have full faith in your ability to organize your men."

"Fine. I'll report back once preparations are complete," Ironwood said, stifling a sigh as he picked up his scroll off his desk. Ozpin swore he could see an odd black flash appear for a split second on the device's screen, yet paid it no mind as the door to the elevator parted and the hologram dissipated.

As the light of the office made its way into the lift, the three figures within were illuminated. Ozpin immediately recognized the three girls before him as the remnants of Team RWBY, the leader flanked by her two teammates. The entourage made its way towards the desk, and after both groups present in the room exchanged nods of silent recognition, Ruby sat down in the lone chair directly before Ozpin, with Blake and Weiss grabbing additional chairs before taking their seats to her side.

"Ms. Rose. Ms. Schnee. Ms. Belladonna. What would bring you to my office this fine morning?" said Ozpin, briefly looking at each girl as he mentioned their names. Even though he vocalized his question, there was no doubt in his mind as to what it would involve.

Of the three, Ruby was the first to speak up after the team exchanged a series of uneasy glances. "Well, uh, we were just wondering about… uh…" she stuttered as she grasped for a proper way to phrase her concerns.

"About your sister?"

Ruby's eyes widened slightly, followed by her hastily clearing her throat and confirming his little hypothesis: "Yeah, that would be it."

Ozpin's stoic expression gave way to a small frown. The student before him seemed to lack her enthusiasm, yet preserved every bit of her awkwardness. Usually, these two qualities gave the small, silver-eyed girl an odd charm about her, one that inspired confidence and friendship. Now, however, her current state only instilled pity.

 _We're all going through hard times, it seems,_ the headmaster reflected solemnly.

Before Ozpin could respond, Ironwood, to his left, sighed as he began: "What exactly would you like to discuss? I'm afraid there's not much to say. We _all_ saw what she did."

Ruby shrunk into herself at his reply. After all, what he said was indisputable. Her actions in the colosseum three days ago had been the direct cause of the siege Vale faced, which in turn caused an entire contingent of Atlas soldiers to make landfall at Beacon.

"Well, considering the sheer number of Grimm we're facing, having as many huntsmen and huntresses in the field as possible would undeniably be a good idea," Weiss retorted, taking her leader's silence as her cue to speak.

"I could not agree with you more, Ms. Schnee. The more capable fighters we can obtain, the better our chances will be," the General continued, pausing for a second before resuming. "However, given her… mental state… it would probably be best to keep her off the battlefield."

At this, Blake leaned forward slightly from her chair with a glint of defiance in her eyes. "With all due respect, sir, she may be hot-headed, but she's _not_ homicidal. I don't know if your men have properly interrogated her as of yet, but you must know by now that I spoke to her yesterday," she growled as her lips contorted into a snarl. "Never before have I seen a human being carry so much regret."

"So all we ask of you, Professor," Ruby now followed up, emboldened by her teammates' reasoning, "is that you release Yang. I swear it was an accident. She would never do such a thing!"

Ozpin closed his eyes in silent reflexion for a few seconds before answering. "Whether or not she harbored ill intent, I'm afraid it's not that simple."

"We simply cannot afford to take any risks regarding the defence of Beacon," Glynda interjected. "While we certainly do not doubt her skills as a huntress, and have the utmost confidence in her emotional composure, General Ironwood has been appointed as head of security for the tournament, and Atlas military protocol is _explicit_ in this situation."

The three girls looked at each other before bowing their heads in solemn acceptance, conceding to the cold reasoning behind Glynda's words.

"As much as we'd like to help, there is simply not much that can be done," Ironwood attempted to console the team before them. "I'll do whatever I can to make the process as swift as possible."

"Don't worry about us, General," Weiss replied, speaking for both her teammates as the trio rose from their seats. "We understand."

Forcing a smile, Ruby turned to face Ozpin as she pushed her chair back to its original position under the office's glass desk. "Thank you for your time, Professor."

"The pleasure is mine, Ms. Rose."

The remaining members of Team RWBY walked quietly to the waiting lift on the other side of the office. The door closed with a quiet hiss, and the office returned to silence.

* * *

The drone of an Atlas transport's engines grew to a deafening roar as it approached the the centermost docking port of Beacon's expansive courtyard. The resulting blast of air blew directly onto the four members of Team JNPR standing below. Pyrrha's long red curls bristled in the wind, while off to her left, Nora was nearly toppled by the gust, with Ren quickly sidestepping to catch his partner. After a small squeal of surprise, she smiled broadly at her teammate above her, while the stoic young man only returned a small grin.

To her right, Jaune stared at the landing behemoth with wide eyes and an open jaw. His befuddled expression brought Pyrrha a brief chuckle; his innate goofiness never failed to lighten her mood on even the darkest of days. Not only was her leader a source of comfort to her, but also one of admiration. His steely resolve in the face of insurmountable odds always amazed her, even after nearly a year in his company. There was simply so much she adored about the blonde to her side; she just couldn't avoid becoming lost in those deep, blue eyes of his…

"Uh… Pyrrha? Is everything alright? You seem a bit… uh…" Jaune stammered, snapping her out of her muse. His cheeks reddened as he shifted his gaze down to his shoes, avoiding his partner's eyes. Pyrrha realized she must have been smiling; something she often did when thinking of her teammate. To Jaune, her expression must have been downright predatory.

"Oh! I'm sorry! It's... nothing, really," she stuttered, placing an apologetic hand on his back. As she attempted to speak again, the Atlas soldiers above them had organized into orderly columns and had begun to march in lockstep down the stairs. "Besides, we should probably get out of their way," Pyrrha hastily added as soon as the first set of grey boots touched down upon the stone of the pathway.

"That would certainly be for the best," Ren added, hefting Nora back onto her feet. The latter nodded in agreement, and the group retreated towards the main structure of Beacon Academy.

Upon reaching a circular area lined with benches, Jaune stopped in his tracks, staring longingly at one of the many seating options available to him. Noticing his abrupt halt, Pyrrha stopped as well, and called out to the other half of her team.

"Mind if we stay here for a bit longer?" she shouted over the clamor of the marching soldiers behind them.

"Sure, no problem," Ren replied, turning to face his hyperactive partner, now skipping several paces ahead of him. "Nora and I will check up on Team RWBY."

After exchanging a nod with Ren, Pyrrha turned back to face Jaune, who was now seated at one of the benches. Without a moment's hesitation, she made her way over to him and sat down just as the first column of marines marched by.

"Any particular reason as to why you want to stay behind?" Pyrrha inquired, leaning forward and looking right, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jaune's expression.

"Well, they're the Atlas Marines," he replied as if that alone answered everything, his gaze unbroken from the procession before him "We don't get to see these guys every day, y'know?"

At this, Pyrrha glanced sideways at the advancing troops. Unlike the grunts of the Atlas Army, the Atlas Marines wore dark grey armor plating and carried a much wider variety of weapons, both ranged and melee. However, akin to their brothers in white, the helmets the soldiers wore completely obscured their eyes, giving Pyrrha the impression of an endless army of clones. She had to sympathize with Jaune; the Atlas Marines were indeed a sight to behold.

Beyond the central pathway to the academy, the hills around Beacon bustled with activity. The amount of manpower and material deployed seemed unprecedented. Antiaircraft cannons designed to shred airships aimed their twin snouts at the skies, probing for any aerial Grimm unlucky enough to enter their firing arc. Paladin units ambled about hefting food and ammunition between the various encampments scattered about the terrain, while fighter jets screamed overhead as they flew past, the tips of their ailerons and wings painted a deep black.

Regardless of how safe the felt in the presence of Atlas' military might, she also felt a growing sense of unease, nagging at the back of her mind:

 _If this is the size our defences… just what are we expecting to fight?_

"I mean, these guys are the stuff of legend," Jaune rambled on, once again focusing Pyrrha's attention on the present. "They say a regiment of them can fight off a force ten times their size."

"And where did you hear _that?_ " Pyrrha asked with a slight grin, amused by yet another one of Jaune's superfluous tales.

"Oh, everyone talked about them back home. I'll have to ask Weiss about it, though... Now that you mention it... it does sound a bit fishy."

The huntsman and huntress both sat in silence for a minute or two, simply enjoying each other's company. The original transport had since departed, being replaced by an identical vessel with an identical cargo. The advancing columns before them continued all the way deeper into Beacon, leading Pyrrha to conclude they were headed for the tower.

"I just hope they know what they're doing. If what Ozpin said is true, we'll need every soldier and huntsman we can get our hands on," Jaune said, turning to face Pyrrha with worry splayed across his face.

"I'm confident they'll do their best," Pyrrha replied, thinking back to Ozpin's speech just a few hours prior. He had urged for all students to stand guard and defend their academy against the hordes of the Grimm, yet had emphasized his understanding if some wished to leave instead. That afternoon, not a single ship had departed from the docks. Indeed, the huntsmen and huntresses of Beacon were hungry for revenge, seeking to avenge the countless lives lost on the battlefield against the monsters that terrorized mankind.

Yet, thinking about the upcoming battle reminded her of something else, something infinitely more important to her.

Once again she locked eyes with Jaune, his gaze inquisitive, yet patient and understanding. It had only been four days since her meeting with Ozpin, one which shattered her view of herself and the world far beyond repair. She had always believed her destiny would be to become a huntress and protect the world from the forces working against it, a philosophy that was only strengthened over the past few days. If destiny had her take upon the mantle of the Fall Maiden, then so be it.

She sighed deeply, causing Jaune to raise an eyebrow in suspicion. If only half of what she had learned by researching Aura over the past days was true, the transfer would give her extreme memory loss at best.

And at worse, her soul would be overridden by Amber's, a fate potentially worse than death. Even in its weakened state, the Aura of a Maiden would be several orders of magnitude more powerful than her own, causing her consciousness to recede into the corners of her mind as the new soul took over.

Looking at her partner to her left and recalling all of their shared memories over the past year, she reckoned it would be far too large a loss for her to accept.

 _But how many lives could I save in the process? How many would be lost if I refused?_ The rational part of her brain scolded her, countering her own selfish desires with hard logic.

 _Destiny is cruel,_ Pyrrha conceded, her emotional side giving one final whimper.

"Pyrrha, you've been acting really weird today, is something wrong?" Jaune said, concern lacing his voice as he spoke. "Ever since you went up that tower you just… haven't been the same. You know how much it pains me to see you like this," he added, placing his left hand on her shoulder and calming her turbulent mind. "If anything comes up, please, just tell me."

 _Such kindness,_ Pyrrha thought, straightening her posture and clearing her throat. As much as every fiber of her being wanted to tell Jaune everything that had occurred down in the vault, she believed it would simply be too much for him. To see him enduring what she went through would shatter her to her very core. For now, she would have to deal with this on her own.

"No… It's alright, Jaune," she murmured as she got up from her seat. "How about we go back to the dorm? We definitely need to get some rest for tomorrow."

He nodded in somber agreement and stood, the pair now beginning the walk back to the academy. The path was left vacant as the last batch of troops had come through during Pyrrha's silent contemplation. Behind the two, the final set of Atlas transports lifted off from the landing pads, returning to Vale to aid in the current battles raging throughout its territory.

"Oh, and Jaune?" Pyrrha said, turning to face her partner at her side.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. If anything happens, you'll be the first to know. I promise."

"Oh, no problem, Pyrrha. I'm here for you" he replied, scratching the nape of his neck and blushing slightly.

The two hunters continued their silent stroll back to their room, both contemplating the potential magnitude of the upcoming battle and praying for the safety of the other, the setting sun at their backs.

* * *

Team RWBY's dorm room lay silent as the day's final rays of sunlight descended through the window. Ruby lay sprawled over her bunk, while Weiss below her was reading quietly. Blake, across from the two on her own bed, fiddled with Gambol Shroud, deftly removing its components and applying solvents to its mechanisms with a brush. She had just finished putting it back together for the third time when Weiss spoke up, her eyes still glued to the pages before her.

"You nervous?" she asked, flipping to the next page.

"Well… yeah," Blake replied as she slid an empty clip back into her weapon, pulling back the slide to check the chamber. "It's the first time we've fought the Grimm on such a large scale."

"I suppose so," she agreed. "How about you, Ruby? You doing alright?"

Ruby hummed briefly in agreement, rustling slightly as she shifted on her bunk. As she settled into a comfortable position, a light knocking came from the door, startling her. She stifled a groan as Blake called out to their visitors, requesting their names.

"It's Ren. Nora's here too. Just checking up on you guys," came the huntsman's muffled voice from the hallway. Before Blake could respond, Weiss quickly bookmarked her progress, set her book down on her bed, and signaled the Faunus to stand down with a wave of her hand.

"We're alright, Ren," Weiss replied, looking at Blake as she cocked her head towards Ruby. "I'll be right there."

She walked up to the room's entrance, opened the door, and stepped out, leaving Blake and Ruby deserted in the chamber as faint chatter started up outside. Taking the heiress' absence as her cue to begin, Blake stood up from her bed and sat on the bookshelf between the bunks.

"Did you go through something like this, Blake?" Ruby whispered from above, now seated on her bunk with her legs dangling over the edge.

"What, losing whatever was left of your innocence and dealing with the absence of a loved one?"

"You could say that, yeah," Ruby replied, a strained smile forming on her face.

"But yes, Ruby," Blake continued in a serious tone. "I've been through this before. I know _exactly_ what you're feeling right now."

Ruby shifted her gaze to her boots and swung her legs aimlessly above the ground, avoiding the Faunus' stare.

"I know what it's like to have your vision of the world shattered. To have reality kick you while you're down, while you're powerless to stop it."

Regardless of her attempts to prevent it, tears began to well up in the young huntress' eyes as Blake carried on. Outside, Weiss was surely oblivious to the conversation between the two teammates, but she was perfectly aware this was something they needed to be alone to talk about.

Taking a deep breath, Blake resumed: "I used to be a lot like you, you know that? Back when I was a protester. Back when I still carried hope for a better future in my heart. But the hate, the White Fang... they changed me. They made me see the real world for the cruel, unfeeling beast it truly is."

By now, Ruby was doing her best not to weep, wiping away tears with the sleeves of her pajamas. While the sight of her leader in shambles devastated Blake, she knew it was necessary for her to overcome this if they were to make it through the dark times that surely lay ahead. She gathered her strength once more before continuing.

"But then I met you, Ruby. At first, I was amused by how one could be so optimistic; so blind to the horrors of the world around them. I thought of it as a weakness. Looking back, I couldn't have been more mistaken."

Her leader now raised her head and locked eyes with Blake.

"Being able to maintain such hope for humanity, even in spite of all of its atrocities, is by far your greatest strength. Instead of backing down or running away, you hold your ground. You spit right in the face of life and tell it to bring it on. And that is _exactly_ what a leader would do. Ozpin couldn't have made a better choice."

Above her, Ruby regained control after a series of deep breaths, her frown replaced by a proud grin. Outside, the voices grew louder, allowing Blake to distinctly hear the various goodbyes being exchanged by the group. Taking it as her cue to wrap up, she got up from the bookshelf and extended her hand towards Ruby.

"So, instead of conceding to the whims of our enemy, stay strong, and we will stand alongside you. Yang would accept nothing less from her sister."

The moment she finished, Ruby grasped her hand, yanked it, and propelled herself onto the ground, landing before Blake with a small thud.

"We all need you, Ruby. _I_ need you," Blake concluded, resting her hand on her leader's shoulder.

"Don't worry. We'll make it through this. As a team," Ruby replied, now sounding identical to her former self. A sense of accomplishment washed over Blake at the sight of her leader, now prepared to lead her team once more into the awaiting darkness.

The door on the other end of the room opened again as Weiss stepped back into the dorm, an amused grin barely visible on her face in the penumbra of twilight.

"We heard _all_ of that, you know?" she quipped. "You should have seen Nora. Ren had to drag her back inside, lest she started crying."

Blake and Ruby exchanged a quick sidelong glance before grinning broadly at Weiss, who was now approaching them with slow, deliberate steps. _Come what may tomorrow,_ Blake thought, _we'll meet it head-on, together._


	5. Roots and Needles

_Breathe in. Hold for three seconds… Breathe out._

Ruby stood right on the threshold of the massive doors of the Beacon amphitheater, looking out to the distant Vale skyline, bathed in the amber glow of dusk. Her teammates flanked her, both wearing the same stoic expression. If it weren't for their constant support, she would have never gotten out of bed that morning, and would instead have watched as her companions charged into the fray without a leader. Looking at them at her side, she knew she made the right choice. She cradled Crescent Rose in her hands, the stock resting under her arm. Her grip quivered, causing the weapon to tremble.

Silently, Weiss placed a reassuring hand on Ruby's shoulder and nodded when her leader turned to look her way. Ruby returned a quick smile before shifting her gaze forward, taking a deep breath before stepping beyond the doors into the courtyard. The grand white arches gleamed in the morning sun, while the red trees framed between them rustled in the quiet breeze: a normal morning in Beacon. However, the usual vista now bristled with defenses: scores of antiaircraft cannons rested atop the imposing archways, multiple platoons of marines occupied the many spaces between the columns, and Paladin units, like mighty sentinels, stood guard behind them.

She could already hear the distant clatter of gunfire, as the hordes of the Grimm encroached. Several kilometers beyond the cliffs, a formation of Atlas airships hovered in silence, guardian angels to the infantry beneath them. Ruby immediately recognized the vessel spearheading the fleet as the _Ironclad,_ the legendary flagship of the Atlas Navy. It dwarfed the already massive ships at its side, its proud bow stretching outward like the beak of an eagle.

"Huntsmen and huntresses! Front and center!" shouted a commanding voice from the positions directly in front of the three girls. "On the double!"

Hearing the summons, the trio sped up into a light trot, their boots and heels clacking on the stone of the pathway. Several other teams throughout the courtyard stood up and made their way over to the front line, kicking up dirt and weeds as they trampled over the dying grass.

Looking over to the towering frames of the Paladins as they hummed to life, Blake breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Glad to see those things are finally on _our_ side."

"Yeah! They'll never know what hit 'em!" Ruby cheerfully replied. She pulled back the bolt on her weapon to reveal the chamber, and grinned wildly as she confirmed the presence of a Fire Dust round within. Weiss rolled her eyes at her enthusiasm as she unsheathed her rapier, deftly spinning its chamber with a flick of her wrist.

Several soldiers waved at the students on approach, and many students waved back. Others, however, shook their heads, and many more didn't even bother to look back. Ruby frowned: she was painfully aware of the rift between the military and Huntsmen, and feared it would soon become much more apparent.

Shortly afterwards, the various teams stood in the imposing presence of an Atlas Navy captain, awaiting his commands while he waved away a pair of lieutenants. The white tunic he wore was decorated with black shoulder pads and medals over the left breast pocket, befitting his rank. He furrowed his brow and scratched his head, adorned with a thin layer of grey hair.

"So this is all the old man could spare, huh?" he muttered to himself. "It'll have to do." Ruby wondered if he, like many of the soldiers she'd met, had failed out of a huntsman academy, and still held resentment for those that hadn't. Perhaps he simply thought of them as an undisciplined lot of teenagers. Either way, some students exchanged wary looks, while others simply glared at him.

"What would you have us do, Captain?" Weiss replied, straining herself from lashing out at the thinly veiled insult.

"Ah, Ms. Schnee!" he answered, a small glint of relief visible in his eyes. "Your team, along with CFVY, can take the center," he commanded, nodding to each of the teams he mentioned. He then turned his gaze to the rest of the crowd before continuing: "ABRN and NDGO, take the flanks. SSSN and BRNZ, reinforce the back line. The rest of you, spread out! One team per platoon!"

Hearing his orders, the students mobilized. In unison, they all brought their weapons to bear, machinery whirring all around them as the hunters prepared for combat. Both RWBY and CFVY sprinted up to the sandbags marking the marines' positions and crouched along the barrier between two minigun emplacements.

"What's the heiress of the bloody SDC doin' 'ere?" the marine to their left questioned. Weiss could feel his cold gaze, even beneath his angular grey helmet.

"Same reason you are, soldier," Weiss replied. "To push these monsters back."

"I like the way you think, princess," he replied in satisfaction as he returned his attention to his bulky weapon. Just as the soldier grasped the twin handles of the minigun, the ground beneath them rumbled, quieting the idle chatter throughout the line. Several cries of alert and confusion rang out, yet they were all swiftly silenced by a distant howl, seemingly emanating from the cliffs themselves.

 _Breathe in…_ Ruby steadied herself, inhaling deeply.

"Here they come!" the captain bellowed. "Raise weapons!"

All across the line, the marines readied their rifles against their shoulders and clicked off their safeties. The single howl grew into a harrowing chorus as the Grimm clawed up the face of the cliffs, causing the earth itself to tremble.

 _Hold for three seconds…_

"Take aim!"

Ruby raised Crescent Rose and rested it atop the sandbags. To her right, Blake inserted a fresh clip into Gambol Shroud and pulled back on its slide. Weiss stood up and assumed a combat stance, left arm drawn in and Myrtenaster pointing outward, the blade glowing a bright red. The two miniguns began to spin, motors whirring as they prepared to unleash death upon the enemy.

As the deafening howl reached its peak, the first Beowolves emerged over the edge of the cliff. Ruby was greeted with the horrifying sight of hundreds of red eyes, burning with rage. Deathstalkers and Ursai followed suit, the Grimm charging forth as a unified wave of darkness.

 _Breathe out._

" _OPEN FIRE!"_

* * *

The Beacon cliffs had always been a breathtaking sight, especially from the bridge of an airship. Off in the distance, an imposing mountain range separated the academy from the rest of the continent, while multiple rivers snaked their way down the plateau. Crowning the entire vista was Beacon Tower and the sprawling complex beneath it. However, as the General took in the only feature marring the immense beauty before him, his grip on his command chair tensed, and anger welled up inside his throat.

Blanketing the entire area around the school, the endless hordes of the Grimm encroached upon the defenders. Several fireballs erupted within the hills flanking the academy as the first line of marines engaged the enemy, creating countless pillars of black smoke as the monsters' assault was thwarted. Even the bright and stoic faces of the cliffs became dotted with black as hundreds of Grimm emerged from the frigid waters below, aiming to join their millions of comrades on the attack.

"Sir, battlegroups Blue and Red are in position, and squadrons Ebony and Amethyst are on standby," announced one of the many officers crowding the flagship's bridge. "Any orders, Sir?"

Ironwood stood from his seat and analyzed the battleground before him before hailing the two other fleets. "Blue-1, Red-1, sound off!" he demanded as he rested his hands on the edge of the bridge's holographic projector, currently displaying the ongoing battle.

"This is Blue-1, reading you loud and clear, General," came the crisp reply.

"Red-1, reporting as ordered, Sir!"

Just as the General was about to issue his commands, a swarm of black specks rose from the mass of Grimm and rapidly converged on the advancing fleets. Several more pockets ascended and followed suit, creating an enormous flock of Grimm that surely numbered in the thousands.

 _Hiding in the horde. Damned Griffons,_ Ironwood cursed to himself, slamming his fist on the projector beneath him. He turned his head to the display, now showing a near endless mass of red triangles intercepting the seventeen vessels of the combined fleets.

"Griffon flock, staggered line!" another crewmember on the bridge shouted. He paused for a brief second as he absorbed information from the screen before him. "G-General, they outnumber us almost five hundred to one!" he stuttered nervously.

Staring down at the hologram one last time, Ironwood observed as the swarm started to divide, each fragment now angling towards a particular vessel. Even without his commands, all of the airships began to charge their weapons, and all of the fighters in their hangars underwent final preparations to launch.

"Then it is an even fight," the General proclaimed, a smug grin spreading across his face.

"Uh… Sir?" The crewmember returned in utter befuddlement.

"All fleets, scramble fighters and fire at will!" Ironwood boomed into the microphone on his ear. "Let's show these Grimm who they're dealing with!"

"Yes, sir!" came the chorus of over thirty replies as the combined might of the fleet's' guns opened fire on the Grimm on approach. Dozens of missiles belched forth from the flanks of the flagship, causing the deck to shudder beneath his feet. Bright red beams of plasma erupted from the formation in an enormous fusilade as both fighter jets and missiles arced towards the advancing Grimm, now merely a kilometer away.

The barrage made contact, with lances of plasma scything their way through the ranks of the Griffons as missiles exploded in their wake. The fighters, now among the ranks of the enemy, let loose with their miniguns, the Grimm in their path unable to fight back. Hundreds of the beasts were felled every second, reduced to lifeless husks as they tumbled out of the skies and into the lake several hundred meters beneath them, tendrils of black smoke trailing them as they disintegrated.

The two jet squadrons, each emblazoned with their designated color on the tips of their ailerons and wings, flew deeper and deeper into the clouds of Grimm, the fearsome stutter of their armaments receding in the distance. They began to loop within the mass of Griffons, with barrages of tracers reducing them to fine mists of feathers and blood.

The men and women in the bridge whooped and cheered as they watched the monsters before them fall to the might of their fleet. However, as the spearhead of the assault was torn asunder, the remainder of the swarm steadily inched forward, the guns of the ships unable to keep pace with the sheer number of Grimm. Smaller point-defense plasma cannons came live across the fleet as the Griffons halved their distance to the airships. Their quieter reports hammered alongside the ferocious roar of the main cannons, and once again the Grimms' incursion was halted.

Despite the enemy's encroachment, the unrelenting cannonade of firepower continued throughout the fleet. However, several ships halted their fire as their main cannons overheated, allowing the Grimm to surge forth once more.

"General Ironwood, this is Red-7, picking up multiple contacts on the starboard hull," a female voice hailed him from his earpiece. "We're being boarded!"

Almost as if on cue, dozens of Griffons flew right above the bridge of the flagship, the arcs of plasma from the point-defense cannons trailing them as they made contact with the top decks. The metal above him buckled and growled as the Griffons attempted to make their way into the vessel.

"Draw your weapons, people, we've got company!" Ironwood bellowed as he unholstered his signature handgun and aimed it right at the roof of the bridge as the rest of his crew did the same. Beams of sunlight poked through several newly formed gaps in the structure, only to be replaced by the eager red eyes of well over two dozen Griffons.

He took a moment to scan the faces of his crewmembers. The officers wore stoic, blank expressions while the fresh recruits trembled where they stood, their rifles jerking up and down as they struggled to maintain their aim. Fear glinted in their eyes, regardless of their attempts to hide it.

This sort of fear was one Ironwood was intimately familiar with. He had seen it enshroud the faces of privates, marching forth into certain death. He had seen it overcome his students, the mere concept of becoming a Huntsman terrifying them to their very core. Yet, in both cases, he had been able to dispel it; to instill confidence in the stride of his men and bravery in the hearts of his pupils. And he would be damned to see his own crew go down without a fight.

"There's too many of 'em!" one of the seamen screamed, darting his gaze between his commander and the breaching Griffons. "We won't hold out!"

"No, recruit." Ironwood deadpanned in as calm a tone as he could muster. The crewmember tightened his grip on his rifle, regarding him with a confused stare.

"We are Atlas!" the General shouted over the cacophony of metal rupturing all around him. "We stand our ground! We fight to the last man! If these beasts want our fear, they _will not_ have it!"

The men and women in the bridge nodded in agreement and held their rifles a little bit higher, while the frightened recruits straightened their posture as their convulsions eased.

"We will drive them back! We will _NOT_ lose this ship! Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the crew erupted as one, the terror in their eyes entirely replaced by determination.

"All ships, mobilize robotic squadrons and prepare for close-quarters combat!" The General bellowed into his earpiece. "Squadrons Ebony and Amethyst, keep them off our backs!"

Once again the combined voices of the captains and pilots of the fleet answered their assent. The hull gave one final, harrowing groan as the Grimm breached the ceiling, the humans below them firing as one.

* * *

" _Warning. Multiple hull breaches detected. Engines critical. Reactor integrity compromised_."

The monotone, robotic voice droned on while the airship around Yang gave its dying spasms. Explosions rumbled within the ship, accompanied by the distant creaking of metal as it bent and ruptured. She lay on the ground of her cell, curled up into a ball with hands placed over her neck.

 _So this is it, huh,_ she wondered idly as her cell continued to collapse around her.

 _This is how I die. Away from friends. Away from family…_

A sudden scream from beyond the door stirred her from her musing, followed by a sharp screech. The door of her cell then buckled inwards from an impact, shifting the single panel enough to let her see the deck outside. A limp arm hung from the opening, blood trickling down to the palm, his rifle clattering to the floor. The overhead lights flickered, briefly illuminating the dark chamber. Multiple fires cast an amber glow on the hallways struts, while red alarm lights flared.

Propping herself up on the cold metal floor, Yang crawled over to the aperture. Just as she reached the doorframe, the imposing frame of a Griffon prowled across the hall, its beak stained with blood. Yang recoiled into a corner, hoping to avoid its gaze. The scratching of its talons on metal halted, and the creature emitted a low growl as it searched for its prey.

"Just my damn luck _,_ "she muttered. She looked down at her wrists, cursing at the lack of her twin gauntlets. She must have underestimated the Grimm's hearing, as it let loose an ear-piercing howl before charging her cell head-on. Yang quickly rolled to the right, slamming herself against the far wall as the Griffon's beak grinded against the door's metal. The beast howled and roared as it attempted to claw its way into the cramped room, its predatory red eyes filled with nothing but rage. The metal spasmed and croaked as the panels were bent; it would only be a matter of time before it broke in.

Yang darted forward to reach the energy rifle, only for the Griffon to snap its mighty beak down, narrowly missing her hand. "Well, you're a coy one, arent'cha?" she taunted. The beast only shrieked in response, shooting spit from its gaping maw. _Perfect,_ Yang thought as she delivered a calculated, vicious kick to the creature's jaw, sending its head into the roof of the cell. As it staggered, she reached forward for the rifle, grabbing it and propping the stock against her shoulder.

Holding a conventional firearm felt… _different,_ Yang realized. She had grown so used to the inner workings of Ember Celica over the years, and had never fired a standard rifle during her tenure as a student. However, with the Griffon so close, coupled with its monstrous size, she reckoned aiming wouldn't be a problem.

 _Alright, open wide!_

Yang squeezed down on the trigger, yet it didn't budge. Small beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she pressed down harder, frantically attempting to find the safety. Noticing her fumble, the Griffon gave another charge, pushing the doors back enough to reach Yang, the steel giving one final, petering croak as it gave way. She planted her boot on its head, barely managing to intercept its razor-sharp beak. She struggled to imagine what would have happened if it made contact, and decided not to.

"Get… Away!" She ground out between clenched teeth, the muscles in her right leg struggling to hold back the immense strength of the beast. The Grimm growled as it continued to push, Yang's leg threatening to give out under the pressure. Finally, she found a circular bump on right side of the rifle, and pushed it down with a triumphant grin. Aiming down the sights, she pulled the trigger once more.

The rifle kicked into her shoulder as it fired a bolt of plasma, the report much quieter than the aggressive bang of her gauntlets. The searing projectile landed right between the Grimm's eyes, and it shrieked as the superheated gas burned and sizzled away it's skin. Drawing her leg back and delivering another brutal kick, Yang continued to fire upon the Griffon, the monster convulsing with each new shot as it tried to stumble backwards to safety. It gave its final spasms and screams before falling limp in the doorframe, wisps of black smoke already forming as it disintegrated.

In silence left by the death of the Grimm, the ship seemed eerily quiet, with the sounds of gunfire echoing across the vessel, and the cacophony of battle outside muffled by the frame of the airship. Yang stood up and gingerly stepped over the carcass of the beast, emerging into the hallway for what seemed like the first time in forever, rifle at the ready.

Looking down the hallway to her right, she could see that the inmate visitor center had taken serious damage. The front wall had entirely collapsed, revealing the the burning ruins of the inner chamber. Within, another Griffon hunched over, pecking the corpse of another hapless soldier. Before she could raise her rifle again, the Grimm had taken notice of her presence, and with a hellish screech, leaped at her. As it lunged, maw and talons wide open, its torso was broadsided by a fusilade of plasma fire, killing the creature instantly. Yang fired blindly, the plasma bolt going wide and impacting the far wall of the hallway.

"Spread out. Search for survivors," came a voice from beyond a corner. Followed by multiple armed crewmen, an Atlas soldier, clad in dark grey battle armor, walked into the hall carrying a rifle. His helmet was missing, revealing a closely trimmed tuft of light red hair. He spotted Yang, as well as the corpse of the Griffon at her side. "You killed that one?" he asked, pointing with the barrel of his weapon.

"Yeah," she replied, lowering the rifle and releasing a breath she forgot she had been holding.

The soldier's eyes widened as he recognized the woman before him. "Wait a minute," he said in suspicion. "You're the chick who killed that dude from Haven, aren't ya?"

Anger welled up in her throat at the mere mention of the incident. Her lips drew back into a snarl and her eyes turned blood-red. "He attacked me, for fuck's sake! Why the hell does everyone think I-"

"Woah, there, kiddo. Slow down," he said, raising his hand apologetically. "That's the least of our concerns at the moment. Right now, we have to focus on clearing out these damn things." He pointed the barrel of his rifle at the decomposing carcass of the Griffon for emphasis. "So, are you coming or what?"

She exhaled as her fury subsided, and her irises reverted to their regular lilac. "Alright," she shot back with a grin, tossing aside her rifle onto the deck. "On one condition."

The soldier raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "And what would that be?"

"You give me my weapons back."

He bit his bottom lip as he mulled her proposal over. "Hmph, fine," he conceded. "Alright, let's head out. We've got a ship to reclaim."

* * *

Crescent Rose kicked against Ruby's shoulder as she pulled the trigger once more, bringing down another Beowolf unlucky enough to fall under her crosshair. Its corpse staggered and fell, tumbling into the oncoming stampede of Grimm and disappearing beneath them. Ruby deftly swung her sniper to the side while pulling back the bolt as she picked out her next target. She spotted an Alpha Ursa climbing over the edge of the central docking platform, and aligned the cross on the center of her scope with the beast's head. The Fire Dust round incinerated the beast upon impact, sending it back to the freezing waves of the lake below.

All around her, the defenders unleashed their might upon the monsters charging at them. Hundreds of bolts arced from the front line, along with relentless streams of tracers from both the Paladins and miniguns. Harrowing cries of pain and anger erupted from the Grimm as their numbers dwindled, the black smoke rising from their piling carcasses beginning to obscure the mid-day sun.

Even the antiaircraft guns bore down on the Grimm, sweeping the battlefield as their twin snouts belched plasma. Multiple Paladins released a combined barrage of missiles, creating fountains of earth and rock where they impacted. However, the Grimm continued to push headfirst into their position, regardless of the gargantuan losses they had sustained.

 _They just keep coming,_ Ruby lamented, discarding a spent clip and reaching for another one in her pouch on her belt.

"Keep firing!" the captain shouted over the din as he unloaded his rifle into the horde, the bolts passing only a meter above Ruby's head.

To her sides, her two teammates did their best to hold back the assault. Blake aimed down Gambol Shroud's sights and bore down on the trigger, picking her targets and scoring shots on the enemy with incredible precision. Weiss swung her sword and spun elegantly in place, as bolts of pure Dust arced from the tip of her blade and into the mass of Grimm.

"Taijitus! Up ahead!" a voice from behind Ruby squealed out in alarm, which she immediately recognized as Scarlet David's thick Mistralian accent. Many other soldiers along the line voiced identical warnings. Three pairs of the gargantuan snakes emerged from the sea of black, the dark and light halves intertwining as they advanced.

"Paladins, intercept and focus fire!" the captain bellowed into his earpiece. Obeying his commands, the towering mechs charged forth, fanning out from the archway to form a cohesive firing line. Like a chorus of death, they unloaded their missile pods into the heart of the horde, the front line of Beowolfs and Creeps incinerated by the inferno. Dozens of railguns bore down on the exposed Taijitus, disintegrating them in a mighty fusilade. Ruby could only watch, mouth agape, as the Paladins tore into the mass of Grimm.

Not even that, however, seemed to dissuade the beasts. As the barrage subsided while the Paladins reloaded, a new wave of Beowolves and Ursai closed the distance. Servos whirred and pistons fired as the towering mechs replaced their primary armaments with robotic fists. They charged to meet their foe, swinging their mighty arms in huge arcs that swept up the monsters caught in their path. The huntsmen and marines opened fire once again, picking off any Grimm that got too close to the operators' cockpits. Yet, despite their efforts, the swarm began to encircle them.

"We have to get over there!" Ruby exclaimed, working the bolt after sniping an Ursa off the back of a Paladin.

"And run directly into a horde of thousands?" Weiss countered, just as a round from Myrtenaster gutted a Beowolf.

"At this rate, they'll be overwhelmed!"

As if sentencing their fate, the ground beneath them shook once more, sending the line into silence. More Taijitus erupted from the earth directly below the mechs, tearing them apart with the immense strength of their jaws. Some of the operators tried to escape the broken husks of their machines, only to be torn apart limb by limb as the black tide passed over them.

The horde vaulted over the burning wrecks, and resumed their charge on the human position. Without the imposing firepower of the enormous machines, the Grimm advanced unimpeded, the combined fire of the marines and students doing little to slow them down.

Behind Ruby, the Captain muttered a venomous curse, rivaling even Yang at her best. "Van Zyl, blow the fucking charges!" he screamed at some hapless marine. "On my mark!"

"Y-yes, sir!" the soldier replied, extracting a small, white device from a pouch on his belt.

Off to her left, Blake's eyes widened, and even Coco halted her unrelenting barrage. Taken aback by their worry, Ruby stopped firing as well. "What is it?" she asked her teammate.

"Oh no…" Blake muttered in way of reply. By the look on her teammate's face, whatever the marines had prepared must have been their last resort.

 _Just what were they doing while I was in there?_ Ruby thought to herself, longing to return to the safety of her dorm.

"You might wanna get down for this one!" Coco called out, putting action to words by stowing her minigun and crouching behind the sandbags.

"Three!" the Captain shouted, initiating the countdown.

All throughout the line, marines and huntsman alike hit the ground. Even the operators of the AA guns dismounted and huddled next to their hulking guns. Now completely unperturbed, the horde of Grimm began to sprint, their growls and cries intensifying in anticipation of their next meal.

"Two!"

"Ruby, get down, NOW!" Weiss screamed from her prone position to Ruby's left, tugging insistently on her arm. She obeyed, sheathing Crescent Rose and slotting it back into its holster as she laid herself flat.

"What the hell is happening?!" she attempted to say over the howls of the approaching beasts.

"One!" The Captain the followed suit, diving into the ground like the rest of his men.

"Just cover your sodding ears, dammit!" the marine manning the minigun shouted back, tapping the side of his helmet to show what he meant.

"What? Why should I-"

After the dull, metallic click of the marine's detonator, her entire world was swallowed by light.

* * *

 _Those eyes…_ Jaune thought, staring directly into the unbroken gaze of the Beowolf in front of him. Those eyes… packed with such anger, hatred, and bloodlust. Just looking at them sent shivers up his spine, causing his sword and shield to tremble in his grip.

 _No, Jaune. Don't be afraid, don't be afraid,_ he reminded himself, however futile it might be. _They like it when you do that._

Reading his thoughts, the Grimm let loose a furious roar and leapt forward, closing the distance on all fours and drooling in anticipation of an easy kill.

 _Alright, now. Remember your training._ Jaune thought back to his countless hours on that rooftop with Pyrrha. As the beast drew near, he pulled his right foot back, raised his shield, and held his blade above his head.

Letting out a shout of his own, he sprinted to intercept his attacker, leaping into the air right before they met. The monster's claws raked across his shield, leaving its torso wide open.

 _Gotcha! I thought these things were supposed to be smart!_

Jaune extended his leg, his kick impacting directly on the beast's center and sending it skidding on the stone floor. As it struggled to regain its bearings, Jaune moved up, sidestepped, and with a spin, brought his sword down on the Beowolf's exposed neck. The remaining stump glowed a dull red, just before disintegrating along with the rest of the carcass.

"Excellent strike, Jaune!" a voice called out to his right, one he immediately recognized. Shifting his gaze to its source, he saw Pyrrha waving at him, surrounded by the smoking corpses of dozens of Grimm. With a gentle smile, he returned the courtesy, and turned to reassess the battlefield.

The grand height of Beacon Tower rose directly before him, stretching into the light blue sky of the autumn morning. It seemed unperturbed by the cacophony of gunfire and explosions at its base; the green lights that gave it its name shone on like usual. Being reminded of his burning throat and aching muscles, Jaune felt envious.

 _If only I were as tough as you, ol' pal._

Behind him, a contiguous firing line of marines and Paladins guarded the northern edge of the plaza, mowing down the seemingly endless horde as it poured forth from the adjacent buildings. They might not have fought with the ferocity and grandeur from the stories he heard as a child, but their iron will in the face of overwhelming odds impressed him nevertheless.

 _Well, it_ could _be worse..._

A rending crash erupted from beyond the plaza, interrupting Jaune's thoughts. The ground shook in its wake, as the report echoed through the academy and into the mountains beyond.

"What the hell was _that!?_ " Nora screamed off to Jaune's left, hefting her enormous hammer in one hand.

"Probably an explosion of some sort," Ren replied nonchalantly as he reloaded his twin pistols.

"You think _I_ wouldn't know the sound of a glorious boom when I heard one? _Especially_ a plastic explosive?" she shot back with mock offense. Jaune suddenly knew why she liked to call herself 'the connoisseur of explosions.'

"Well, if you already knew, then why did you ask?" he responded with a sly grin. Nora attempted to counter, and after a second of silent thought, formed her lips into a pout, muttering incomprehensible curses at her partner. Ren's smile only got wider.

"Crazy assholes musta blown the charges," said one of the many marines tasked with the rear guard, just like JNPR. "Means they're gettin' their asses kicked."

Jaune's eyes widened as he remembered which teams were assigned to the courtyard. _Ruby, Weiss, Blake… Can they even handle so many Grimm?_ Noticing his concern, Pyrrha ran up, skid to a halt next to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Jaune. It'll take a lot more than _that_ to stop RWBY."

Cries of alarm and panic rose from the front line; the Grimm were unwilling to let them rest. Soldier began to turn and flee, only to be torn to shreds by the black tide. Others stood their ground, drawing their swords and slicing away in a futile effort to push the monsters back.

"Rear guard, move up!" one of the lieutenants bellowed, looking back over his shoulder. "Cover our retreat!"

"Alright, that's our cue, team!" Jaune shouted over the combined march the of marines, hunters, and Paladins assigned to the rear, all conglomerating on the breakthrough.

"Yes! _Finally!_ " Nora growled, the feral anger in her eyes rivalled only by the predatory stare of the Beowolf Jaune eliminated mere minutes before.

"Kill them, men! Kill them all!" shouted the commander of the rear guard as the reinforcements charged forth, roaring in fury as they closed the distance.

"You heard the man!" Jaune echoed, receiving nods from both his team and the marines around him. "Let's make it count!"

"OOH-RAH!" they chorused, raising their rifles and opening fire as the retreating frontline merged with their ranks. The charging Grimm fell in the dozens under sustained fire, yet their advance did not waver.

"Nora!" Jaune called out to his teammate, turning to face her. Her teal eyes blazed with insanity, accompanied by an equally ferocious smile; she knew exactly what he had in mind. "You know what to do."

Nora's expression only got wilder. "I thought you'd never ask!"

Deftly spinning her massive hammer in her hands, she poised herself on its head and pulled the trigger on its shaft. Her weapon's massive recoil propelled her into the air. Many other hunters along the line sprinted and leaped ahead, following Nora's example. She drew her hammer back as she fell, screaming as she brought it down.

Magnhild made contact with the stone ground, creating an enormous shockwave of rock and lightning. All the Grimm around her were sent flying back, and many more obliterated in the blast of her hammer. Having left the spearhead disoriented, Jaune and the rest of JNPR vaulted over her kneeling form, and engaged the stunned Grimm at her feet. The marines and Paladins at their backs rushed forward and reformed the firing line, unloading death to support the hunters as they moved in.

"Cover me!" Nora shouted, getting up and folding her weapon into its grenade launcher form.

Jaune extracted his sword from the carcass of a Creep and raised his shield, narrowly blocking a Beowolf's swipe. Taking in the endless mass of Grimm before him, his knees trembled, and almost gave way. The beast clawed at his sides, it's lethal blow parried by his sword. Once again, Jaune stared at death in the face, its red eyes burning with wrath.

He drew out his left leg and swept it beneath the beast, causing it to lose balance. As it toppled backward, Jaune plunged his blade right down the Beowolf's torso, pinning it to the ground. Just as he was about to finish off the writhing creature, a harsh, sudden crack rang out to his left. The Grimm's head exploded in a shower of fur and blood, coating Crocea Mors with dark red.

When he turned to the source of the gunshot, he saw Pyrrha, her weapon raised and its barrel smoking. She gave him a single nod, her emerald eyes blazing with vibrant determination.

 _I believe in you, Jaune,_ he could almost hear her say, soothing as ever.

Emboldened, his Aura flared, and his muscles tensed with new-found strength. Behind him, Magnhild boomed and Stormflower chattered as they kept the Grimm from overwhelming their position, bullets and grenades whizzing by his head.

Those not eliminated by Ren and Nora's barrage charged in the wake of their fallen comrades, only to be cut down with a flurry of slices, with Grimm after Grimm collapsing at their feet. An Ursa lumbered forward and raised its paw, only to be gutted by a railgun blast from a Paladin, missing Jaune by a distance he wished he never knew.

Slowly but surely, the defenders fought back. Jaune's knees ached and his nerves screamed, but he didn't care. By the scores, Grimm fell all around him as their assault was suppressed. The humans took casualties of their own, with ghastly howls of agony erupting from the front line.

At last, their seemingly infinite numbers began to dwindle. "They're pulling back! Hold positions!" a Captain behind them bellowed. It took several seconds for Jaune to acknowledge it, but it was indeed true. Instead of charging, the Grimm now scrambled back into the various structures and forests north of the tower. The marines cheered, celebrating yet another small victory against the ferocious enemy. However, Jaune wasn't so sure.

 _Something isn't right._

Ren shared his suspicions. "When do you ever see the Grimm retreat for no reason?"

"Awwww," Nora sagged. "I can't kill more of 'em!."

"He's right," Pyrrha put in. "They never do."

 _They almost had us beat. What the hell are they doing?_

Jaune's inner strategist kicked in as he analyzed the situation. According to Ozpin, he had always been a better tactician than fighter. Jaune had certainly never been inclined to doubt the wise man's judgement.

He thought back to the countless hours spent in Dr. Oobleck's endless lectures. He'd ramble on and on about the exploits of ancient armies and generals, and how their flashes of genius turned the tide of battle or avoided the most disastrous routs. He'd even made small dabblings into the Grimm's behavior in combat, where researchers insisted they weren't the mindless monsters everyone made them out to be.

Jaune raked his mind, searching for any useful information gleaned from those dull lessons. Why pull back from a likely victory, if only to secure your chances of winning later on?

That could only mean one thing, Jaune reckoned.

Reinforcements.

 _Aw, crap._


	6. Spearhead

The steel barrel of Ironwood's handgun rested against the armored skull of a Griffon as it gave its last thrashes of life. He pulled the trigger, the Grimm's head muffling the weapon's bark. A spout of thick, dark fluid erupted out the back of the beast's neck, splattering the floor. The monster, now lifeless at the General's feet, began to evaporate.

The bridge of the _Ironclad_ writhed with battle, as more and more Griffons poured through the gash in the bulkhead. Point-defense plasma fire scythed above them in a futile attempt to stem the tide. Yet, even as the brave crewmen killed dozens upon dozens of the invading beasts, each downed Griffon was replaced by two more.

"Hangar Bay 3 has been overrun!" a panicked voice screamed over the General's earpiece. "Repeat, we've lost Hangar Ba- ARRGH!" The transmission ended as abruptly as it began.

"Damage report!" Ironwood shouted over the clamor of claws, plasma, and metal. A colonel turned to look at a beeping console, his rifle shouldered.

"Hangars 2 through 6 are gone, reactors 1, 3, and 4 have been compromised, and Gravity Dust generators are failing!" the soldier listed, darting his eyes around the display. As he read, the creases of his forehead hardened in fury. By his graying hair and sunken cheeks, the General reckoned he was old enough to have served in the Faunus War, making him one of the more useful crewmen on the ship. If a lifetime of military career taught him anything, it was that experienced soldiers went a long way.

A private on the General's left spoke up, startled by the colonel's readout of the ship's condition. "Uhh… sir? That doesn't sound too good. W-we gotta get off this ship!" he stuttered.

"Like hell we will," Ironwood returned, shooting a Griffon at point blank as it attempted to charge him.

"But… sir, the sh-ship, it's gonna-"

"You heard me, private. _No one_ on this damned ship leaves until we have it rid of this filth, even if we go down with it! Am I right, men?" the General shouted at the marines below him, fending off the waves of Griffons. A grin spread across the colonel's face as he nodded in agreement.

"AYE AYE, SIR!" the soldiers shouted back, their barrage on the Grimm unbroken.

The General then heard his earpiece crackle with radio static, before clarifying to the horrifying buzz of a minigun. As soon as the connection was established, a stream of tracers strafed the bulkhead from above, eviscerating a Griffon before it could charge in.

" _Ironclad_ , this is Amethyst-4," the pilot stammered in his guttural North Atlesian accent. "We're holding 'em off, but not for much longer. Requesting reinforcements, over!"

Distracted by the hail, Ironwood almost missed a second Griffon flying directly towards him from the opening. He thrust his right hand forward, intercepted the beast mid flight, and held its jaw shut. It growled and thrashed as the General flipped it over, hefting the creature with his robotic arm as if it were ten times smaller. Ironwood took aim, and once again, his handgun recoiled in his hand, drilling a hole straight through its beak and skull.

"General Ironwood, sir!" a petty officer called out from behind. "We're receiving hails from Vale Air Force HQ. They're sending a squadron of Bullheads our way!"

Ironwood grinned and brought his hand to his earpiece, activating the receiver. "Roger that, pilot. You got a squadron of Bullheads en route to your position. Hold out until they arrive."

 _"Jawohl,_ sir!" the pilot replied, briefly lapsing back into his native tongue.

The General returned his attention to the battle in the bridge. Even though the Griffons had yet to pierce the front line, the slumped corpses of many marines and officers littered the deck, deep crimson pooling around them. Some beasts took eager pecks at the carcasses, only to be shredded by plasma fire.

Yet, as the tide began to die down, another trio of Griffons, much larger than the rest, flew through the opening above them. They towered over the men at their feet, with intricate patterns adorning the bony plates protecting their flesh. Their eyes, red and hollow, glowed with bloodlust and hatred the likes of which Ironwood had never seen.

Had he still been a private of the Atlas Army, his bowels would have run free. However, hardened by decades of military service, he stared right back, readying his handgun. The towering creatures noticed his defiance, and released an ear-piercing screech before lunging forward, right over the marines and officers defending the bridge.

Once more, Ironwood stood still, letting the Grimm charge straight at him. His old drill sergeant back in Atlas would have beat him to a pulp for daring to fight a Grimm head-on, yet he had learned quickly that his robotic limbs gave him the edge he needed to ignore his teachings.

The three beasts closed the distance, leaping over the holographic display with jaws open and talons extended. They all pecked and swung, yet their blows were parried by Ironwood's right arm, perfectly timed to intercept their attacks. One of them clamped down on it, and growled in frustration as it was unable to tear the hardened metal.

The General raised his pistol, zeroing his sights onto the head of the second Griffon, pulling the trigger as the monster rushed in. It staggered and collapsed, a smoking hole between its two pairs of eyes. He swiftly adjusted his aim to the one holding him down, firing into the side of its head. Like its comrade, it fell to the ground as its hold went limp.

The final beast roared in fury, a deep, thundering howl. The General took aim and opened fire, missing as the beast evaded both shots with an agility belying it enormous frame. Ironwood squeezed the trigger again, only to be answered by a dry, metallic click.

 _Oh, shit._

The Griffon screeched triumphantly, moving in for the kill.

As its claws descended upon the General, the marines in the lower levels of the bridge opened fire upon it. The combined fusilade of a platoon of marines chewed through its armor, leaving its carcass a boiling ruin. The corpses of all three Grimm smoked beneath him, filling the bridge with acrid smoke. Some of the soldiers retched as they inhaled the noxious gas.

"General Ironwood, sir!" a medic blurted out, running up and saluting the General. "Do you require medical assistance?"

"I'm fine. At ease," Ironwood deadpanned, "Get the wounded to the medbay." The medic gave his arm a quick, suspicious glance before motioning his comrades into the bridge. The General released a mental sigh of relief.

An air of confusion hung around the soldiers, as many shifted their gaze between the General and the dead Grimm. The silence lingered, the groans of the injured soldiers and hushed whispers of the medics the only sounds in the bridge. The old colonel eventually turned to one of the consoles along the wall, breaking the quiet as he read out the display. "Sir, no further contacts detected outside. Bridge is secure. Orders?"

He looked at the faces of the weary men beneath him. Some were covered with sweat and grime, others with dried blood. Yet, the same courage they displayed when the Griffons first boarded remained, a flicker of bravery behind their eyes.

"We aren't done yet, men," he said, reloading his pistol. "On to the hangars. We're taking them back."

"Aye aye!" the soldiers bellowed, slapping fresh clips into their rifles and trotting up to the bridge's entrance. They resumed their march as the General walked past them, following him deeper into the bowels of the airship.

Screams of triumph and anguish, both human and Grimm, echoed through the vessel's gargantuan frame. Outside, the detonations of missiles shook the deck beneath their boots. The walls were splattered with blood, the telltale crimson of human gore intermixed with smoking, crusted ooze.

Human corpses littered the passageways, shrouded by midnight smoke. The General and his entourage coughed and gagged as they made their way through the pungent fumes, stepping over the slumped forms of their fallen comrades.

 _Not even the cigarettes in the trenches were this bad,_ Ironwood thought, calling back to his days as a young soldier on the frontlines of the Faunus War. He flexed his robotic arm as he remembered the horrors of the conflict.

 _That war put thousands of kids into wheelchairs and crutches. How many more is this one going to maim?_

At last, they reached the cavernous mooring of the first hangar bay, with robots and marines holding off the never-ending hordes of Griffons. Machine guns placed throughout the line rattled, mowing down the Grimm as they charged by the dozens. Beyond the edge of the bay, point-defense plasma fire continued to bear down on the beasts, while jet fighters screeched by impossibly close to the hull.

"Move out! Spread out across the line!" the General boomed, moving up alongside his troops and unsheathing his pistol. The chorus of gunfire came as music to his ears, the screams of the monsters providing a beautiful melody. His own handgun added to the cacophony, as he unloaded and reloaded in the same practiced rhythm that had been drilled into him since his childhood.

A low rumble rose from the distance. Gauging its direction, Ironwood reckoned it came from the west. From central Vale. As it approached, he was able to discern its origin. A harsher, lower pitch than the soft whine produced by Atlas vehicles, yet no less comforting than the jet fighters that prowled the space around the fleet.

 _Took 'em long enough._

The Grimm gave one final push, swarming the bay by the hundreds, their harrowing screeches overpowering the hammering of the machine guns. Their spearhead was hacked down one by one, as beast after beast plummeted to the deck. Yet, their advance was unscathed, with the Griffons gaining ground at a terrifying rate, their piercing red eyes hungry for the slaughter.

However, before they reached the line, a demonic stutter arose from the lip of the hangar. Countless tracers scythed across the cloud of Grimm, eviscerating the beasts mid-flight. The soldiers hit the deck as the bullets screamed by only inches over their heads. The beasts howled and cried as their carcasses rained down onto the metal. The diminishing swarm revealed the outlines of four Bullheads, the twin miniguns under their fuselages still smoking, and the Twin Axes of Vale decorating their flanks.

Ironwood needed a few seconds to take in the carnage left in their wake. The deck was completely obscured by a sea of Griffon corpses, with black wisps of smoke rising from the entire hangar bay. One of the pilots waved at the soldiers, inciting rapturous cheers and applause from the marines. Ironwood looked at the young man piloting the aircraft; looked at his carefree face behind the glass of the cockpit. The General could not help but picture the boy in a field hospital, missing a leg or an arm, and crying out for his parents.

The squadron of Bullheads turned east and continued on their course to Beacon. As they did, the General's earpiece crackled with static once again. "General Ironwood, sir, this is Red-1. The skies are clear. Orders?"

Ironwood allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Looking out to the assembled fleet floating beyond, most ships remained airborne, despite the beating they had just received. He dreaded to think of those that weren't as lucky, and shuddered as he imagined hundreds of crewmen doomed to the frigid waves of the lake below.

 _We still have a war to win, dammit,_ Ironwood reminded himself, returning to the pragmatism that had maintained his sanity for his entire military career. _Can't afford to weep over every loss._

"Move in over Beacon and provide air support. Wipe those Grimm bastards off the face of Remnant."

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

The marines and crewmen stood before the door of the armory, reloading new clips into their plasma rifles. Yang stood behind them, toting a rifle of her own. She felt rather embarrassed having to pick up another one after ditching her first one. Having counted on the armory being clear proved to be a forlorn hope, as blood was caked over the panels of the entranceway, and feral growls resonated from the chamber within.

"Prisoner, watch our back. Make sure nothing sneaks up on us." the red-haired marine ordered. "Jenkins, keep an eye on her. She tries anything funny, you shoot her. Got it?"

"Yes sir!" he replied, and about-turned to face Yang.

She tightened her grip on her rifle and clenched her teeth in frustration. If there was anything else she despised more than being locked away from combat, it was being useless in a fight.

"Safeties off! Breach formation!" the marine bellowed, with he and his men taking positions on either side of the door. After a few seconds, Yang caught on and dashed to the right, leaning on the metal wall and aiming down a bend in the hallway. The soldiers clicked off their safeties in unison, reminding Yang of her close encounter with the Griffon in her cell. Checking the side of her rifle, she discovered the raised bump of the safety behind the trigger, and promptly pressed it.

"Fire in the hole!" one of the marines shouted as he planted a small, square explosive on the twin metal panels of the door. His hands trembled as he held the detonator aloft in his hand. The Grimm on the other side began to growl.

"Blow the charges, private! On my mark!" the helmetless marine ordered, as he and the rest of his squad braced against the wall. He brought up his left hand and counted down, the other marine thumbing the detonator as soon as the last finger descended.

Flame and smoke shot out from the entrance as the panels of the doorway thudded on the far side of the armory. The soldiers filed in one by one, guns blazing as they stepped inside. The last marine disappeared beyond the threshold, with the cries of the Griffons punctuating the chorus of relentless plasma fire.

A new note rose from within: a deeper, more harrowing snarl that overpowered the cries of the dying beasts. The creature unleashed a furious roar, followed by talons dragging across metal. Human screams then echoed out of the armory, panicked and terrified as they resonated through the hallways.

Yang lowered her rifle and ran over to peer over the edge of the blown-in door. The Grimm towered over the shaking soldier at its feet. The intricate markings on its bony plates were unmistakeable. She'd seen them countless times, both in Professor Port's class and out in the field. It stared directly at her with its two pairs of hollow, red eyes, aching to slaughter the Huntress before it.

 _Yep. This one's an Alpha._

Ignoring the trembling marine below it, it charged right past the line of soldiers. Their barrage was unable to halt its advance, its thick, white armor absorbing the bolts of plasma.

Yang raised her rifle and lined up its head with her crosshairs. Yet, before she could pull the trigger, an impact on her back knocked her off-balance. She stumbled and fell to her knees, the scorching plasma searing off her skin and clothing. Regardless, she felt little pain, as her Aura glowed yellow while it healed her wounds. As her Semblance absorbed the energy from the bolt, a new boost of strength surged through her entire body, with her bright blonde hair emitting a dull glow.

"Thanks, bud," Yang grunted through gritted teeth as she tossed her rifle aside, the marine's jaw dropping in horror. "I really needed that."

The Alpha Griffon leaped into the air and shrieked, its talons extended and ready to slash. Unflinching, Yang slammed her two fists together, her golden locks bursting into flame and her irises turning red. She drew back her fist, and with a scream of her own, dashed forth to meet the beast.

Her fist made contact with the Grimm's head, splitting and crunching the bone underneath. A dry snap came from the Griffon's neck as the imposing creature fell limp, tumbling harmlessly to her side. Thin spirals of black smoke materialized over the carcass. Standing above the corpse, Yang exhaled in relief, the soldiers standing still and staring.

The red-haired marine was the first to break the eerie silence. "Jenkins, as much as I wanna call you a trigger-happy son of a bitch, you might have just saved all our asses," he deadpanned. Jenkins only grunted in reply.

Yang shrugged off her vest, inspecting the gaping hole left on its right side. With a groan, she slung it over her shoulder and glared at the marine who shot her. "You're paying for this, pal," she snarled, pointing at her ruined clothes. His helmet obscured most of his face, yet she swore he rolled his eyes.

"Well, prisoner, we're here on your behalf. Grab your weapons so we can get the hell out," the red-haired marine ordered. Identifying her gauntlets from the countless rifles lining the racks was no hard task, as their bright yellow metal contrasted with the dreary gray of the armory. With a gleeful smile, she reclaimed them from their slot and slid them onto her wrists, relishing their comforting weight on her forearms. After being deprived of them for close to four days, bearing them once more made her feel like a Huntress again, instead of a prisoner rotting away on an Atlas ship.

"Way better than those peashooters you guys lug around, huh?" she remarked with a smirk.

"We don't have all day!" one of the marines called out in his guttural Atlesian accent. "Get on with it!"

She gave the racks a last look-over, in case she missed anything else of note. Satisfied, she turned back to the marines. "Sooo, now what?" she asked. "We ready to head out?"

Without answering, the red-haired marine raised a hand to his ear, pushing down the single button on his comms unit.

"This is Staff Sergeant Karmesinrot of Alpha Company to Red-7. Come in, Red-7."

In the quiet of the armory, Yang could hear the static from the sergeant's earpiece. No voices replied to his hail.

"I repeat, this is Staff Sergeant Karmesinrot to Red-7. Do you copy?"

Yet again, silence was all that came from the other end of the transmission.

"Oh shit," one of the crewmen accompanying the squad groaned. "Did we just lose the fucking bridge?"

"Yeah, what are we gonna do, Sarge?" another marine spoke up. "We can't just sit around with our thumbs up our asses. We gotta do somethin'!"

"And we will, Private," the sergeant responded with determination. "Ready up, everyone. We're storming the bridge. You too, prisoner."

"Aye aye, sir!" the soldiers chorused. Yang simply smirked and nodded.

The red-haired marine trotted out of the armory, followed closely by the men and women under his command. Yang tagged along behind them, flicking her wrists to extend her weapons. They expanded with creaky whirrs of machinery, the days of neglect taking their toll on the gears and pistons. She made a mental note to grease them as soon as she returned to Beacon.

 _If I do at all._

The squad made its way through the cramped maintenance tunnels, winding their way up through ladders and around countless corners. Yang could hear menacing growls just on the other side of the metal walls, with occasional bangs or screeches as the Griffons beyond attempted to break in. _Of course they can sense us,_ she thought when she saw the marine in front of her, his rifle trembling in his hands.

At last, they emerged from the dark and into the brightness of the uppermost decks, her eyes taking several seconds to adjust to the lighting. To their left, the entrance to the bridge laid tightly shut, with several corpses slumped against the closed doors. Small pockets of black smoke swirled above her head, filling the deck with an acrid stench.

"At least they went down fighting," the sergeant muttered before he turned to the soldiers behind him. "Form up on the door," he ordered. "Jenkins, plant the charges."

"On it, sir," the marine replied, running up to the door and extracting the explosives from his belt.

The red-haired marine then turned to face Yang, gesturing forward with his rifle. "You're good at handling these things, prisoner. Get up there with Jenkins. You'll be breaching."

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well, that's a sudden change of heart. What happened to 'keep an eye on her in case she tries anything funny?'"

"Atlas military doctrine urges the use of any available assets to ensure victory," he recited, as if stating an article of faith. "Now get the hell up there before I change my mind."

"You're the boss," Yang retorted, raising her hands in mock concession. A smirk spread across her face as the sergeant groaned behind her.

As she approached the marine hunched over the dual panels of the door, he shifted his gaze from the charges to the Huntress standing to his left.

"So, back when I shot you in the armory… what the hell was that?" he inquired, taking quick glances at the gaping hole left on the back of her tank top, and the burnt vest slung over her shoulder.

"Oh, that's my Semblance!" she replied, feeling no small measure of pride. "I can absorb the energy from any attacks and use them to make my own stronger! Pretty cool, huh?"

"Fucking freaks, the lot of you Hunters," he muttered, his voice laced with envy. "We can still make use of it, though." He fiddled for a few seconds with the explosives, before hitting a button on the central panel, causing the charges to emit a faint green light. In prominent red letters, the word 'ARMED' appeared on the device's analog display. Jenkins retreated back to the line of marines, leaving Yang alone at the end of the hallway.

 _Ah, I see what you're up to. Not bad for a bunch of army pukes,_ she thought, bracing herself in front of the explosive.

Once again, the red-haired marine raised his palm. "Blow the charges! On my mark!" he bellowed. Yang took a deep breath as the sergeant lowered his fingers one after the other, the end of the countdown marked by a sharp beep.

Her entire vision was consumed by a white flash, as flame and heat washed over her in an enormous wave. Her eardrums reverberated under the might of the blast, leaving a persistent ring she thought would last forever. She shielded her face with her hands, the skin on her palms and forearms boiling away. However, her Aura and Semblance began to kick in, as her entire body was encased by a faint yellow glow, closing her wounds and regenerating her flesh. She clenched her fists as her muscles overflowed with strength, her hair once again setting itself ablaze. As soon as the explosion washed over her, she lunged into the bridge through a screen of smoke, emerging with a furious shout.

A Griffon charged forth the moment it spotted her, releasing a sharp, terrifying screech. Yet, before it could make contact, Yang brought down her arm, hitting the beast right between the eyes as Ember Celica roared. The monster flew backwards, smashing through the consoles on the upper level before slumping in the open area below.

Two more Grimm dashed forward, seeking to avenge their fallen brethren. Yang delivered a brutal uppercut into the jaw of the first, sending it crashing into the bulkhead above. She then crouched as the final griffon attempted to gouge her, its beak scything through the air above her head.

"That was close, buddy!"Yang taunted. "But not close enough!"

As she rolled to the right to strike the Griffon, a single strand of yellow hair fluttered down in front of her face, on its serene fall to the metal ground. Gently, it touched down on the deck, coiling up as soon as it landed.

 _"OH, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"_ she screamed, her eyes shifting from lilac to crimson. She twisted to give the beast a swift kick in the neck, knocking it onto its side. Standing up and cocking her weapons with a pump of her arms, she began to fire into the Griffon's torso, slug after slug encrusting themselves into its flesh. Eventually, Yang's relentless flurry was met by a dry click from her twin gauntlets, with red shell casings littering the ground around her. Three new tendrils of black fumes now rose into the air within the bridge.

Her rage subsiding, she relaxed her fists, exhaled, and spat on the rapidly disappearing remains of the Grimm that had dared harm her hair.

"You weren't the first to make _that_ mistake," she muttered, wiping small beads of sweat off her brow. The broken Griffons at her feet reminded her of the deathly wound she had inflicted on the poor, Mistralian student… Mercury, she recalled.

 _Well, at least I'm not killing humans anymore,_ she consoled herself, exhaling in relief. _Once I get back, you and I have a LOT to chat about, Blakey._

Outside, the clattering of boots approached the entrance, the sergeant and his men passing through the threshold. "Well, that was quick," he said, looking at the sprawled out corpses of the Grimm. "Spread out. Secure the area and identify the bodies."

With the bridge reclaimed, she was able to look around and take in the scene before her. Multiple human carcasses cluttered the floor, dried blood pooled around all of them. One in particular stood out to her: the corpse of a woman, laid out in the lower level of the bridge. Yang had no idea how to identify military ranks, but if the deceased crewmember's ornate shoulder padding and medals adorning her tunic were any indication, she must have been the vessel's captain.

She looked out the bridge's viewscreen, expecting the endless expanse of the sea. Instead, she saw the soaring spire of Beacon Academy, the entire complex spreading beneath her just as it had almost a year ago when she first arrived. A small tear began to form under her eye. This entire time, she believed she was on a direct course for Atlas, on the way to be interrogated and imprisoned by military authorities. Seeing her home eased her fears, and revitalized her hopes of escape.

Shifting her gaze across the vast plateau, she realized the academy was in bad shape. Gargantuan smokestacks rose from its buildings and equally large masses of thick, dark smoke spiraled alongside them. The courtyard was in ruins, with an enormous trench gouged into its soil. The remains of dozens of Atlesian Paladins dotted the grass, their wreckages still burning. As she looked more closely, she spotted more creatures of Grimm, closing in on the fortified positions that guarded the entrance. While their advance was broken and hasty, they moved forward nevertheless.

 _Oh no… Ruby… Weiss… Blake…_

She ran down to the front of the bridge to get a better look, peering down at the huge lake below them. An enormous black tide rose forth from the waves and up the cliffs, much larger than the remains of the one on Beacon's doorstep. It inched its way up the rocks, sending many boulders on their long plummet downwards.

"Oh, fuck, there's more of 'em?" one of the marines shrieked. "If they get up there, Beacon's done for!"

Yang trembled at the thought. Left alone on an Atlas ship, with her sister and friends killed by the endless numbers of the Grimm.

 _And I'll be damned if I let that happen,_ she concluded, as an idea went off in her head.

"Yo, Sergeant," she called out to the red-haired marine, currently removing the dog tags off a poor crewmen's neck.

"What is it, prisoner?" he replied, standing up and turning to face her.

"Which one of these buttons fires the weapons?"

* * *

Ruby's ears continued to ring, a deep, piercing drone that consumed the entirety of her senses. Slowly, other sounds punctuated the persistent buzz. Plasma fire. Screams. Boots clacking on concrete. Eventually, a single voice overpowered the rest, a shout clear as the sun breaking through cloud.

"Charge! Charge! _Charge!"_

As it had back at the colosseum, her vision returned alongside her recovering hearing. She laid on her stomach, with a stout barrier of sandbags mere inches from her face. An insistent tugging on her shoulder caused her to sit up and look to her right. Weiss kneeled above her, Myrtenaster at the ready in her left hand.

"Come on, Ruby!" she screamed. "Get up!"

Shaking her head and blinking multiple times, she stood up and gazed upon the devastation before her. A massive ditch had been carved into the earth by the charges, with mountains of dirt scattered at its edge.

Among the dual trenches, countless Beowolves and Ursai sprawled out, their limbs twisting at impossible angles. A single Taijitu was draped over the remains of the stone pathway, pillars of smoke billowing from its midsection. Those that survived were dazed and confused, attempting to regain their momentum as they shambled over the ruined grass.

The entire battalion rose from their cover and jumped over the sandbags, firing their rifles in unison as they charged. The Huntsmen and Huntresses of Beacon loped alongside them, the melee fighters tearing through the stunned Grimm while those behind them finished off the stragglers. Cheers and whoops swept through the courtyard as the enemy's numbers dwindled.

"Let's go get 'em, Weiss!" Ruby called out to her partner, vaulting over the sandbags and extracting Crescent Rose from her back. With practiced expertise, she unsheathed it in her hands, spinning her weapon as its curved blade folded outward. Behind her, Weiss and Blake followed suit, the former casting a glyph under the trio. It resembled the face of a clock, its two hands rotating at an ever increasing speed. Ruby felt a surge of new energy course through her entire being, and coupling it with her Semblance, she dashed straight towards the remaining Grimm.

As she passed the gouge in the earth, the ground beneath her trembled. Spotting the cracks in the concrete ahead, Ruby halted and leapt backwards, just before a bright yellow stinger shot out from the opening. Two enormous pincers followed suit, attempting to pierce the nimble Huntress as she darted back and forth. Eventually, the full frame of a Deathstalker emerged, the clacking from its claws punctuating its furious shriek.

From behind, the marines unloaded their rifles into the beast, its thick armor absorbing the barrage. The hulking monster scuttled forward, bringing its enormous stinger down on Ruby. She vaulted over it as it pierced the ground, stabbing Crescent Rose into the flesh at its base. The Grimm screamed as the blade dug deeper, thrashing its tail back and forth in agony.

Coming to her aid, Weiss jumped onto the beast's carapace, holding Myrtenaster above one of its many eyes. Yet, one of the Grimm's great pincers swung sideways and swatted her off its back as if she were a mere flea, sending her rolling onto the dirt and into the depths of the ditch.

"Weiss!" Ruby shouted, the grip on her weapon beginning to waver. Her view of the world was reduced to an unrecognizable blur, as the Deathstalker's tail flailed back and forth. Finally, with a single, mighty swing downwards, Ruby's hands broke free. She slammed into the concrete, her Aura taking the brunt of the impact. However, by the time she stopped rolling and her vision stabilized, her entire torso ached with pain. Barely able to lift herself, she looked over the lip of the stone pathway and into the trench at its side, spotting a pair of pale hands emerge as Weiss crawled her way out.

Before the enormous monster could move in for the kill, Blake leapt in front of it, wielding the dual blades of Gambol Shroud. Enraged, the Deathstalker charged once more, plunging its pincer straight through Blake's abdomen. However, her figure dissipated into a black shadow, with her real form now poised directly above the creature's tail. She brought her sword down as she fell, severing the pincer from the tail in a single strike. The Grimm reared back and screamed, tendrils of dark fog forming on the stump.

Blake turned her attention to the fallen Ruby, picking Crescent Rose off the ground and running back. She crouched down next to her leader, extending her arm.

"Are you alright? Can you stand?" she asked, checking her arms and legs for any visible injuries.

"I'm fine. I think," she replied, standing up with the help of her teammate. "Thanks."

Silent as ever, she handed back her scythe, its blade dripping with black sludge.

Reclaiming her weapon, Ruby returned her attention to the Deathstalker, as it shook its head to regain its composure. All of its empty, red eyes focused on the two Huntresses, glowing with fury and hatred. Unleashing a harrowing shriek, it bounded forward at incredible speed, its multiple legs clacking on the ground.

 _Remove the stinger, and the Deathstalker becomes useless,_ Ruby recited mentally, recalling the endless hours she spent in Professor Port's class. Lacking its most powerful weapon, the Grimm flailed its pincers as she approached the two girls, the pair of Huntresses easily avoiding the hasty strikes. They vaulted onto its back, parrying its claws as the beast made a futile attempt to knock them aside.

Above them, a white blur streaked over the Grimm, with bright bolts of pure Dust arcing down from it. They encased its legs and pincers in pure ice, the beast screaming and thrashing as its frozen limbs refused to respond. Looking to her left, Ruby spotted Weiss as she landed on the other side of the pathway, the blade of Myrtenaster casting a dull glow.

"Now, you two!" she shouted at Ruby and Weiss. "Before it breaks free!"

When Ruby looked at the ice surrounding the Deathstalker, long cracks began to appear on its surface.

"Go, Ruby," Blake said, extracting a Fire Dust crystal from a pouch on her hips. "I've got a plan."

She jumped off the carapace of the Grimm, leaving a copy of herself behind. This one, however, did not dissipate, and instead shone an intense orange, growing brighter with each passing second.

 _You always were the clever one, Blake,_ Ruby thought, dashing upwards off of the Deathstalker. She turned around in midair, folding Crescent Rose back into its rifle form and aiming down its scope. Blake's shadow clone detonated, engulfing the Grimm in ball of fire and smoke. As it cleared, Ruby glimpsed the bubbling remains of the beast's armor, sizzling atop its now exposed skin. She pulled back on her weapon's bolt, ejected the spent casing, and grinned as another red-tipped bullet was inserted into the chamber.

She pulled the trigger and Crescent Rose spat flame. The bullet flew through the air and piercing the monster's skull. Another, smaller explosion came from its head, as the Fire Dust within the round ignited. Ruby landed back on the concrete, and the Deathstalker before her went limp, with wispy tendrils of smoke spiraling over its corpse.

"There. You didn't need to empty an entire clip into its head, now did you?" Weiss scoffed, glancing at the beast's disintegrating carcass. "This was _much_ more elegant. Thank you, Blake."

"Anytime, Ice Queen," she replied, stowing her weapon on her back.

"But it would have been _sooo coooool…_ " Ruby pouted.

"More like wasteful. Dust rounds don't grow on trees, you know, and with the factories out west being completely overrun, I don't think–"

The ground beneath them shook once again, catching the three girls off guard and knocking them on their knees. The once-triumphant cries of the marines turned into a din of confusion and alarm, many faces focusing on the cliffs from which the first wave came.

"Oh, come on!" Weiss stomped as she got back up, reloading a new chamber of Dust into her rapier. "Don't they know when to give up already?"

"They're persistent, I'll give them that," Blake added. "But giving up? If only it were that easy."

Ruby converted Crescent Rose back into its scythe form and looked out to the docks and the skies beyond. The fleet of Atlesian ships, while now smaller in size, loomed much closer to the academy than they did when the invasion began. Their hulls were ravaged with breaches, many ships exposing their bare frames. However, their cannons still jutted out from under their bows, glowing red as they charged up.

And the entire fleet then pitched downwards, aiming their entire arsenals directly at the Beacon cliffs.


	7. Above the Earth

"Sir, incoming distress call from Red-7," an officer on the bridge of the _Ironclad_ called out, his eyes glued to his screen. "Unauthorized access to weapon systems coming straight from the bridge!"

 _Survivors?_ Ironwood wondered. Ever since the captain of Red-7 had reported Griffons on the vessel's outer hull, all communications from the bridge had abruptly ceased. If the captain had perished in the ensuing battle, only a manual override from the head of the fleet would bring the weapon systems out of lockdown.

"Give me a visual feed and establish contact with the bridge," the General ordered, shifting his gaze to the holographic display before him. As it came online, he saw a young, blonde girl, smashing her fists on the central console. Several marines stood around her, likewise fiddling with the many controls scattered around the bridge.

"What the hell are you all doing?" he shouted, holding his hand up to his earpiece to transmit his voice through the bridge's speakers. The marines and the woman all jerked around in confusion, until one of them pointed at the security camera the General was viewing through. The blonde-haired girl stared directly into its lenses, hands on hips in defiance.

"Well, if it isn't General Ironwood himself!" she bellowed, interrupting a marine who opened his mouth to speak. "It's been a long time, huh, buddy?"

 _Such a lack of discipline..._

"Ms. Xiao Long," the General sighed. "I thought you were under arrest."

Before she could respond, a helmetless soldier stepped into the camera's field of view and snapped off a crisp salute. "General Ironwood, sir! The prisoner was unintentionally released by a Griffon during an engagement, but has since proven crucial to the reclaiming of the ship's bridge." Yang nodded her head in approval, a smirk spreading across her face.

"I see. Where is the captain?"

"Killed in action, sir."

 _Another name for the casualty lists,_ Ironwood mused.

"In any case, mind explaining why your men are so insistent on activating the weapons?"

"Are you blind!?" Yang screamed, pointing frantically at the cliffs ahead. "Fat load of good that huge ass ship does for you if you can't even see the damn horde!"

He looked up from the camera feed of Red-7's bridge and to the rocky precipice ahead. Several crewmembers stood up from their seats as the horde slowly crawled its way into view, on its lethargic, yet steady, ascent to the academy. Atop the plateau, the organized line of soldiers had completely disintegrated, with several pockets dotting the courtyard and hills. The terrain was pockmarked with the ruins of the Paladin division, which had once numbered over three hundred units. Now, only a few dozen shambled over the ruined grass, amid the endless heaps of smoking black corpses.

"They don't stand a chance, sir! We have to do something!" someone in the lower levels yelled.

Ironwood studied the Grimm's advance in silence, scratching his bare chin. He went through the available options in his head:

 _Not enough time to pull troops out of the tower and hills…_

 _The Bullheads won't do enough damage…_

 _That only leaves one other choice._

He hailed the remaining ships of the fleet, tapping a button on his earpiece.

"All ships, charge weapons and open fire on the cliffs! Below the docks!"

"Aye aye, sir!" came the reply from the captains of both battlegroups. With a few deft strokes of the holographic keyboard beneath him, he overrode the lock on Red-7's weapon systems.

"Missile and plasma cannon controls are on the central panel. Fire every single pod," he said, turning back to the display beneath him.

"Alright! About time, General!" Yang snarked as Ironwood shut down the feed. A faint drone came from below the deck, as the plasma cannons charged up and the missiles were loaded. The view of the academy tilted as the ship pitched downwards, the bulkheads rumbling as the mighty vessel took aim.

"All weapons ready to fire on your order, sir!" the _Ironclad's_ weapons officer announced. An eerie quiet followed his words, the entire bridge tensing for inevitable order. The General took a final moment to take in the scene before him: the towering smokestacks, the diminutive soldiers, the ever-approaching Grimm… All looked so tiny, so insignificant, from the bridge of his vessel. He could almost feel the despair of the defenders beneath him, as their miniscule faces all turned towards the looming fleet.

 _Oz is gonna hate me for this,_ he thought, and took a deep breath.

"FIRE!"

* * *

A wave of silence washed over the courtyard as the marines and Hunters stared in stupefaction at the vessels above the cliffs. The tips of their cannons glowed an incandescent white, emitting a soft hum as they charged. The ground continued to tremble, the growls and shrieks of the Grimm starting to overpower the tremors caused by their steady ascent.

"Please tell me they're _not_ going to do what I _think_ they're about to do," Weiss groaned.

"Got any other ideas? We can't take them on like this!" Blake shot back, waving her hand across the battered courtyard. Mangled corpses and machinery lay sprawled over its entire expanse, and wounded soldiers did their best to remain on their feet. Even the Huntsmen and Huntresses of Beacon were spent, many making their way back either on their own weary legs or on the shoulders of their comrades.

Each of the fleet's cannons now shone as bright as the sun itself, the hum rising to an ear-piercing screech. It drowned out the bickering of her two teammates, as well as the ravenous snarls of the encroaching beasts. Slowly, a new sound made its way into the din, an insistent shout from behind her that clarified as she focused on it:

"What the fuck are you all doing just standing there?! _FALL BACK!"_

Before the she could even register the significance of the command, the Atlesian fleet opened fire. Twin beams of pure plasma erupted from every ship in the formation. Hundreds of pods on their flanks popped open, unleashing a torrent of missiles that arced downwards, fading from sight as they dipped beneath the docks. The earth itself thrashed in agony as the barrage made contact, rocks grinding and splitting underneath. With a monstrous roar, a huge gash ripped across the soil and concrete behind the three girls, and the front half of the courtyard began to tilt forward.

"Shit! _SHIT! RUN!"_ a marine screamed, ditching his rifle and staggering backwards as the landscape steepened. Too dazed to react, countless marines and Hunters struggled against the tide, buried under layers upon layers of stone and soil. Yet again, Ruby stood back, watching as life after life was snuffed out right before her eyes, powerless to stop it.

 _No. Not again. I won't let them die!_

She dashed forward, turning into a red blur as she arced towards the crest of the wave. The beams of plasma continued to drill their way into the cliffside, tearing up the ground beneath her as geysers of molten rock shot out from the surface.

 _"RUBY!"_ Weiss shrieked, her voice fading quickly behind the all-consuming cacophony. Hovering above the chaos, Ruby saw many other Huntsmen and Huntresses diving in to rescue their compatriots, hauling marines and fellow students back to safety. A sense of pride welled up deep within her chest, one that had gone missing since that fateful day on the colloseum. Once again, she felt like a true Huntress.

She scanned the area below her for any signs of survivors, spotting a brown-clad arm poking out of a sliding mound of dirt. Using her Semblance, she redirected her fall towards it, rolling as she landed on the loose soil. The arm squirmed in panic, with muffled screams coming from below as its owner attempted to shake free. Ruby grasped it with both hands, pulling with every ounce of strength she had left. Eventually, a shoulder came free, and after that, a head. In shock and out of breath, Velvet Scarlatina gazed up at her rescuer, her arm trembling in Ruby's grip.

"R-Ruby?" she stuttered, struggling to form a coherent thought. "W-what are you–"

"There's no time! We need to get you out of here! Can you stand?"

Velvet struggled in the dirt, wriggling her trapped arm in an attempt to dig herself out. Before she could free herself, her eyes widened as she spotted something behind Ruby, her ears perking up in alarm.

"Ruby, watch out!"

As she whipped her head around, a boulder rolled down the slope and slammed directly into her back. She was sent flying by the impact, her Aura shining silver as it recoiled from the collision. Velvet was dislodged as well, hanging onto Ruby's arm as the pair tumbled in midair, her fingernails digging into the other Huntress' sleeve.

Ruby extracted Crescent Rose with her free arm, extending it into its scythe form with a swift motion of the hand. She flailed it wildly, hoping to stab it into any part of the falling terrain. At last, its blade found purchase on a rock, embedding itself into the stone with more soil and shrapnel rained down around them. The still-burning wreckage of a Paladin streaked by mere meters from the two, smashing into a pair of marines hanging on to another rock beneath them.

"Hang on!" Ruby screamed, tightening her grip on her weapon's shaft. The sweat on her palm soaked the metal, her hand slowly starting to slip. She felt Velvet's hands beginning to weaken as well, as they slid down her arm and stopped at her wrist.

 _I can't hold this for much longer,_ her inner voice creaked as the strain on her arms threatened to rip them from her very body. Looking down, she saw the turbulent waters of the lake, the massive metal disks of the Beacon docks jutting out from the waves. The Grimm horde was now completely scattered among the rock, dirt, and debris, with columns of black smoke rising from dark blotches on the water's surface. She could barely make out the smaller specks of color amidst the endless seas of blacks: the bodies of countless dead, both marines and Hunters.

 _Why?_ she thought, looking at the fleet of Atlas vessels hanging above her, obscuring the sun with their gargantuan frames. _Why this? Wasn't there any other way?_

She attempted to convert her anguish to fury, to become enraged at the Atlas dogs who had just killed her classmates. Yet, hanging above certain death, she found herself unable to. She could feel her Aura draining away, struggling to keep up with her many injuries. Faint pops came from her arms and shoulders, yet she felt no pain. Her hand slid off of Crescent Rose, the last bit of strength she had left drained away. She looked at the bodies of her fallen comrades beneath her as she fell, Velvet's shrieks only a distant howl as her senses went numb.

 _I failed again. I couldn't save anyone. I'm sorry. I'm so–_

Suddenly, she felt a stern hand clasp her wrist, jerking her to a stop only a second after she let go. Flowing locks of white hair obscured the face of her savior, yet she did not need to see her to know who she was.

"You absolute idiot!" Weiss screamed, kneeling over the edge of a simmering glyph. "Blake! A little help over here?"

"On it!" she responded, swinging in from the side with Gambol Shroud anchored to a rock above them. She swooped below Ruby, snatching the still-trembling Velvet from her arm and landing gracefully on the wreck of a Paladin, firmly lodged into the dirt still clinging onto the bedrock. As the four hung still in eerie silence, the cliffside shifted, sending even more rocks and soil to the frigid lake.

"W-we need to get out of here!" Velvet stuttered. "This cliff won't last much longer!"

"Seconded," Blake added, gauging the distance back to the academy. "Weiss?"

The heiress sighed, pulling Ruby onto her glyph and placing Crescent Rose back into her hands. Her gaze seemed distant, as if focused on a point far ahead.

"Hey," Weiss whispered, her earlier rage completely subsided. "You in there?"

Ruby's gaze then refocused, locking eyes with the Huntress before her. "Yeah. I'm good," she rasped, clutching her right shoulder with her left hand

"No. You aren't. We've got no time to waste," Weiss declared, standing up and extracting Myrtenaster from her belt. With a swift flick of her sword, she casted two, parallel lines of glyphs up the cliffside, ending on the lip of what was left of Beacon's courtyard.

"Let's go. You might want to hold on."

* * *

Rapturous cheers engulfed Jaune as he stood among the euphoric marines. They thrust their fists and rifles into the air, chanting in triumph. However, ever since the Grimm fell back after almost smashing through the human lines, he knew something was amiss. As much as he raked his mind in search of an answer, none seemed to appear.

He felt a light tapping on his shoulder, disturbing his idle musing. Nora stood behind him, with the rest of his team looking over her shoulder.

"That thinker of yours come up with anythin' yet?" she asked, her suddenly genuine tone catching him off guard.

"Yeah, somewhat," he replied, turning to his teammates and inhaling before continuing. "Point is, there must be more coming. Why else would they just retreat? They almost crushed us, but they fell back anyway!"

The other three mulled his statement over, lost in thought before Nora spoke up again: "Maybe they just had enough?"

"Does that sound like the Grimm to you?" Jaune deadpanned, staring straight into his teammate's eyes. "Do they _ever_ have enough?"

She looked down and winced at the truth behind his words. If months of classes and exams hadn't hammered that into their brains, the past few days certainly had.

"So, what are we going to do about it?" Ren asked, cold, perpetual logic exuding from his voice. "We can't just stand around and mope if they're marshalling a secondary assault."

Jaune turned his gaze forward, focusing on the labyrinth of trees, buildings, and alleyways in front of him. He had no idea why he felt a chill run down his spine. After all, the structures before him were nothing more than staff residences, study halls, and warehouses. He'd wandered through them hundreds of times, and knew their layout like the palm of his hand.

Yet, staring into the darkness, he could only imagine a thousand red eyes staring back.

 _Come on, buddy,_ he thought to himself, the tip of his sword shaking in his grip. _Just keep it together._

"Alright, you lugs!" a booming voice bellowed from behind. The entire front line turned back to face it, including the mighty Paladins, rotating their upper halves while their legs remained stationary. He'd been unable to catch a glimpse of the Atlas Captain over the course of the battle, yet now, he stood right before Jaune and his teammates.

He was a bear of a man, tall and bulky, wearing the same dark gray battle armor as his subordinates. A cigar twitched in lips as he spoke, and a long scar ran down his left cheek. He spoke with confidence, yet his swagger lacked the naïveté of an inexperienced officer.

"We ain't done here yet! Not until we smoke every last one of those motherfuckers!"

The marines erupted into cheers once again, as a wave of "Ooh-rah"s swept through the ranks. Slowly, the Hunters started to nod, including Jaune and his team.

"Form up into columns and sweep the alleys!" the Captain continued in his harsh Atlesian accent, unslinging his rifle. "Paladins up front!"

Like clockwork, the soldiers fell into position, leaving the scores of Beacon Hunters dazed and confused as they gingerly took their places behind them. The mechs began lumbering forward with thunderous steps, marines loping along at their feet.

As the ranks marched down the pathway, Jaune's mind swam with the possibilities.

 _Did they really fall back?_ he wondered. _Are they waiting for us around the corner? On the rooftops? Below us?_

Soon enough, the walls and trees enveloped him, restricting his field of view to the buildings around him and the soldiers in front. Pyrrha jogged at his side, eyes as determined and defiant as ever. She turned to look at him, flashing him a quick smile and nod as their eyes met.

The same, unmistakable howl rose from deep within the alleyways. Peering once again into the darkness, Jaune spotted a single pair of red eyes. This time, however, they weren't just his imagination. Another pair appeared. Then another. Soon enough, dozens of them pierced through the shadows, devoid of emotion, yet somehow brimming with rage.

"Contact! Contact!" one of the marines hollered. "Dead ahead!"

The eyes grew brighter and brighter, shadowy silhouettes growing around them.

"Front rank, halt!" came the Captain's orders from the back. The soldiers knelt, rifles raised and steady. The mighty Paladin stopped in its tracks, as dozens of missile pods popped open on its shoulders. Jaune could now fully see the approaching Grimm, a black tidal wave, swarming over itself as it galloped forth.

"Front rank, aim!"

The marines peered down their sights and clicked off their safeties. Directly in front, the Grimm continued to gain ground, tearing up the concrete with their relentless advance. The frontmost beasts leaped into the air, screeching as they arced towards the humans beneath them. Jaune could do nothing but stare as the Beowolves closed in, a slow-motion blur of red and black.

" _FIRE!"_

The front rank rippled, a wave of plasma crashing down on the descending Grimm. They flew backwards, steam smoking from multiple, gaping holes in their flesh. The Paladin's twin railguns boomed, the fireballs swallowing dozens at a time. The monsters' agonizing wails rose into the air, whipped across the academy by an arid breeze.

A single, lucky Beowolf crawled its way onto one of the walls, skittering along its surface and dodging the countless plasma bolts that whizzed in its direction. In one, swift motion, Pyrrha brought Miló to her shoulder, snapped her aim to the encroaching beast, and pulled the trigger. It staggered and tumbled backwards, consumed by a cloud of smoke, fire, and debris.

As Jaune stared, mouth agape, at the slaughter before him, he caught a lone shadow streaking by overhead. Bricks came loose and fell where the figure's leg slammed into the lip of the rooftop. A marine flinched as they rained down mere meters from him.

"What the hell was that?"

More soldiers looked up, snapping their heads back and forth as more forms zigzagged above them. Soon enough, two dozen silhouettes peered down into the alley, red eyes burning against the gray sky.

"They're above us!"

"Holy fuck, they're everywhere!"

"Shoot 'em, shoot 'em!"

The beasts leaped into the alleyway, claws outstretched and jaws drooling. They landed among the soldiers, howling as the marines sighted their new targets. A single Beowolf swung at a grunt, splitting her torso in half with a single swipe. The soldier crumpled, lifeless, at the creature's feet.

The line fell into chaos. Screams and growls came from every direction, and plasma bolts seared impossibly close to Jaune's head. The Paladin pilot, in a panic, swerved his machine around, only to be buried by a wave of over thirty Beowolves. As the mech toppled over, it exploded in a brilliant fireball of orange and blue, incinerating both the advancing Grimm and the hapless marines caught in its path.

Jaune swivelled his head from side to side, attempting to regain his bearings amidst the bedlam. One by one, he spotted his teammates, fending off the Grimm as they swarmed around them.

 _No… It was never a retreat,_ Jaune finally realized, clenching his fist. _Dammit, I should have seen this coming! They were never this good! Why now? What changed?_

His musings were cut short as a powerful claw grasped his ankle. It pulled from below, slamming his face against the concrete and dragging him through a forest of boots and fur. Any second now, Jaune was certain, he would feel teeth sink into his flesh.

Instead, its iron grip slackened, and he skid to a halt on the cold ground. Panting, he propped himself up and saw the smoking remains of the Beowolf's paw, its slender fingers still twitching. Above him, Pyrrha put a round through the claw's owner's skull, reaching out her hand as soon as the beast stopped writhing.

"Jaune! Are you alright?"

Before he could reply, he spotted a towering figure behind her, its raised claw glistening in the diminished sunlight.

"Get down!" he screamed, snapping upright and putting his shield between the beast and his partner. The claw stuck the center, grinding against the metal with a deafening screech. Jaune raised his right arm, still gripping his sword, and braced it under the shield, his knees buckling against the power of the immense Grimm.

Jaune raised his head and locked eyes with his attacker. As he did, he could feel his face lose its color. He gulped. His spine tensed.

He gazed into the bloody abyss the beast had for eyes. What stared back was not unbridled fury, yet cold, frightening intellect. Its growl was not one of rage, but one of annoyance, the kind an elephant makes when met with a flea.

 _Of course I had to find the Alpha…_

Suddenly, it retracted its claw and drew a few steps backward, releasing a low, guttural bark. A dozen smaller Beowolves then turned towards it, galloping to put themselves between the Alpha and the two hunters.

"D-did it just give orders?" Pyrrha stuttered.

"Yeah… it did!" With her words, a sudden realization clicked in Jaune's mind.

 _Every board needs a king. And when the king dies..._

"Kill the alpha!" he shouted into the air, straining his already exerted lungs. "Kill that damn alpha!"

The beast's eyes narrowed, focusing on him as it barked once more. Suddenly, the subordinate Beowolves all turned towards him, unleashing a uniform screech as they charged.

 _No way! How did it…_ The tip of his sword began to shake in his grip.

Before they reached the two, paralyzed hunters, a barrage of plasma fire scythed across their formation. The Grimm screamed and thrashed, reduced to steaming piles of fur and smoke.

"You heard the man!" the Captain bellowed from behind, holding a hand to a bleeding gouge on his left shoulder. "Bring that sonuvabitch down!"

More bolts screamed through the air, sizzling harmlessly on the beast's thick armor as it bounded forward. Its enormous claws dug into the ground, tearing gashes into the stone as easily as they would in flesh. The monster leaped into the air, arcing its gargantuan arm on its way down. Below, the two hunters held their swords and shields high, bracing for the coming impact.

Yet, three bright, pink explosions erupted across the Beowolf's flank, sending it flying into the masonry of an adjacent building. The creature became swallowed in a puff of dust and debris, an enraged howl coming from the jagged hole in the wall.

Nora stepped out into the alley from the frame of a blown-in door, smoke pouring out of Magnhild's barrel.

"Go after it! I'll cover you!" she shouted, loading more grenades into her weapon. Jaune and Pyrrha locked gazes for a fraction of a second before sprinting for the breach. The clatter of boots followed close behind, spreading around the structure as the pair entered the building.

The two hunters stared into the cloud of settling dust. Slowly, the beast's shadowy frame emerged from the smokescreen, its growls sharp and ragged. The armor on its side had been completely obliterated, exposing charred fur and flesh. It snapped its head around to meet Jaune's gaze, spit and dark blood oozing from its open maw.

The Beowolf screeched, twisting back and swinging its claw downward. With impeccable timing, Pyrrha dashed to meet its strike, blocked it with her shield, and spun her blade around. Its fury turned to agony, and a spasming, steaming claw thudded on the wooden floor.

Not a half second later, a door on the side of the room burst open. A green blur blazed through it, slashing at the beast's heels. The unmistakable stutter of Ren's Stormflowers rose from behind the Grimm. A barrage of bullets tore through its feet, bringing the monster to its knees.

One after the other, the remaining doors were kicked open. Endless streams of plasma fire surged from them, burying the creature beneath a sizzling broth. It raised its head, releasing a desperate howl. Off in the distance, other Beowolves responded in kind.

"It's calling for reinforcements!" Nora screamed out in the alley, Magnhild thumping as growls approached from every direction. "Finish it off!"

Giving one final burst of strength, the beast lunged forward, thrusting out its one good arm towards Jaune. Their eyes met, cold blue staring into fierce red.

 _Checkmate._

He sprung forward, placing his shield above his head and parrying the monster's strike. He crouched directly beneath its jaw, and with a roar to match that of the Grimm, swung his sword upwards.

Suddenly, its growls ceased. Its towering carcass fell to the side. A dry thud came from behind, and thin spirals of smoke began to fill the room.

The distant snarls of the Beowolves grew ever quieter, fading as each gave their final shrieks of life. High above, Jaune heard the harsh whine of engines and the stutter of machine guns. Cheers and whoops swept through the valley, echoing through the maze of pathways around Beacon tower.

Yet, in an around the ruined building, no one cheered. No one even breathed. Behind their helmets, the marines simply stared on. Whether they were shocked, relieved, or horrified, Jaune could not tell. They began to file out of the structure, heaving the wounded on stretchers back towards the academy.

As he released a sharp sigh of relief, an awful stench overpowered his senses. Beside him, Pyrrha began to sniff the air.

"Gods… this smell…" She gagged and retched, dropping her weapons and bringing both hands to her nose. Jaune began to move towards her, yet heard a splash underneath his foot. He lifted his shoe, and saw it covered in blood. Red, human blood.

"You've never smelled rotten flesh before?" one of the marines shot back, retrieving the dog tags off a fallen comrade. "Man, Ozpin really _does_ keep you guys soft."

 _Does he?_ Jaune wondered. He'd always assumed that a Huntsman academy would teach and prepare him for dangers of real combat. If _this_ is what he'd been really training for…

Slowly, Jaune stepped out into the alley. Nora stared, wide eyed, at the corpses that choked every inch of the concrete. Some were clad in Atlesian battlearmor. Some were charred to the bone. Others, however, wore no armor at all. Instead, they were covered in the frayed remains of black Beacon uniforms.

Her eyes were bright with fear, as if the slaughter before her was something familiar, a nightmare she'd previously tried to forget. They'd been so focused, so preoccupied, that they failed to notice the carnage all around them.

Jaune heard footsteps behind him, and felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw the Captain, taking a long drag on his cigar. He sighed, spat out the stump, and crushed it underfoot.

"Welcome to war, kid."


	8. Below The Sky

A soft breeze whistled up the jagged cliffs, blowing on Ruby's face. She stood on their lip, looking out at the empty space once occupied by a proud, green courtyard. She kicked a pebble over the edge, watching it tumble down the charred rocks to the turbulent lake. As soon as the tiny speck faded into the waves, she raised her gaze to city skyline.

Below her, Vale burned.

Thick, gray smoke stacks billowed from the city center, gargantuan columns of ash that darkened the skies. Artillery rumbled off to the northwest, its thunderous report punctuating the wailing alarms. Screams were carried on the eastbound wind: panicked shrieks, begging for mercy.

Across the lake, she spotted one of the many bridges connecting the city's commercial and residential districts. Before, they were Vale's lifeblood, part of a vast network of raised highways spread across every sector of the kingdom. Now they were crammed with refugees, a slow wave of mottled colors slogging across the river.

However, even over the gunfire, the shouts, and the wind, the growls from the northern bank were crystal-clear.

A trio of blurs streaked high above the buildings. She heard their engines before she consciously identified them as jets. One of them broke formation, banked low, and dove right for the bridge.

She gasped as the aircraft pitched up, a tiny dot arcing down from its fuselage. The center of the bridge was consumed by an enormous fireball, its mighty roar coming a full second after the flash. The other jets continued westward. Smaller booms followed suit as they too swooped on their targets.

 _Why?_ her mind whimpered. _Did they just… give up?_

She felt powerless as the flames gave way to smoke. She felt powerless as the two halves of the bride crumpled into the river, sending up enormous columns of water. She felt powerless hearing the screams pick up, quickly fading again as countless civilians sank beneath the surface.

She balled her fists. She _knew_ what she needed to feel. Pity. Shame. Horror. _Anger…_ But she couldn't. No matter how much she tried, all she could do was stare.

 _And it's only been a week… How about in a month? A year? Will I even last that long?_

She heard footsteps behind her, a familiar clacking of heels that made her turn around. Shoulders sagged and face sunken, Weiss walked up to the edge, and took her place by her partner's side.

"Is Blake doing alright?" Ruby asked, attempting to distract herself from the devastation before her.

"She's… nervous," Weiss replied.

"About Yang?"

"Yeah, and so am I. Aren't you?"

She looked down. "I just hope she's alright. After everything that's happened…"

Weiss also lowered her gaze. They'd received the news that morning, in an encrypted messag e from General Ironwood himself. Following her heroic actions on an Atlesian airship, she'd been given a temporary pardon and allowed to return to Beacon. However, the briefing had explicitly mentioned she would be kept under "heavy surveillance." What that entailed, neither Huntress knew.

Another explosion rang out from the west. The faint clatter of rifle fire followed only a few seconds later. Muzzle flashes sparkled from the shoreline, like hundreds of tiny fireflies.

"She… she said she was attacked, right?" Weiss began, eyes still focused on the growing firefight.

"Yeah, Blake said so. Why do you ask?"

"It's just… none of this makes any sense, you know?" She turned away from the cliff, pacing back and forth. "We've spent so much time coming to terms with it that we've never stopped to ask ourselves: how?"

"I know what you mean, Weiss," Ruby replied, great sorrow weighing down her words. "But, at this point, can we do anything beyond just taking her word for it?"

"No… no, there _has_ to be something we can do, some lead we can investigate. Anything!"

"Such as? Mercury's team all but vanished after what happened, and anyone higher up is off fighting the Grimm!"

"Well, what do _you_ suggest then? Stand around and do nothing?" Ruby noticed a small hint of anger in the heiress' voice.

 _The war's taken its toll on all of us,_ she lamented.

"Weiss, I want this as much as you do, believe me! But there's nothing we can do!"

"Oh, so you're just giving up?" Weiss shot back, arms crossed. "This problem won't solve itself, you know. The world still sees her as a murderer!"

"As long as we're all okay, does that even matter?" Ruby answered, her voice starting to quiver.

"Don't be so naive, Ruby," Weiss scoffed. "What if she's lying? What if she's gone insane? If we just sit here and mope, we'll never know the truth!"

"No… There's no way she'd–"

"How can you be so sure? We have no evidence whatsoever to validate her claim!"

"Because…" She found herself at a loss for words. "Because I trust her."

Weiss sighed, shaking her head. "Trust can only take you so far."

Ruby could feel her throat starting to burn. "I- I thought you…"

"I've had enough of being kept in the dark."

Her vision began to blur. Her jaw tightened. Stuttering, it took all the energy she could muster to speak again:

"Just look around you, Weiss!" Ruby shrilled. "Is there _anything_ we can do besides just trying to survive?"

Still fuming, Weiss did just that. She looked at the cratered soil, the blood-stained concrete, the rows and rows of weapons stuck above mounds of dirt. She clenched both fists, let out an angry scream, and kicked another pebble off the edge of the cliff.

"Fuck this damn war," she muttered.

Ruby gasped. She barely swore. Even after an angry call from her father, a really bad test result, or even the tragedy at Amity, she'd kept up her facade. Now, it crumbled down like the Beacon courtyard itself.

Weiss breathed in, attempting to compose herself. "...I'm sorry. We should really head back. It looks like it will rain soon."

Underscoring her words, a drop fell onto Ruby's hand. It stung upon impact, and burnt its way through her Aura. Startled, she looked up, and her eyes widened.

The clouds above her were not the dark gray she associated with a coming storm. No. These clouds were pitch black, driving the day from the heavens as they swept over the academy.

Another drop came down, this time falling on the floor in front of her. The dark liquid seeped into the concrete, sizzling through the ground, and leaving a pockmark on its surface.

 _By the gods… Grimm rain…_

However alien the looming tempest above seemed, she'd heard of it before. Ancient Huntsman legends once told of great battles against the Grimm, where millions of the monsters were felled. Their smoke would rise, collect among the clouds, and mix with the rain. Vegetation would be destroyed. Men would be melted alive. All along, she thought it was just a myth.

Weiss was equally awestruck. In all the stories Ruby had read, the storm formed quickly, before any of the humans below could respond. If they didn't move now, she reckoned, they'd be reduced to a molten goop within minutes.

Ruby heard cries of confusion and alarm coming from the rest of the academy. "Come on, Weiss!" she shouted, already beginning to run. "We have to get back inside!"

Her partner wasted no time with a response. She extracted her sword from her belt and cast a glyph beneath them, propelling them down the pathway as they ran. Ruby yelped as more drops pricked at her skin, pulling her hood over her head and tucking her hands into her cloak.

Along with a dozen other Hunters, they crossed the auditorium's threshold as the massive doors began to close. Outside, the patter quickly turned into a downpour. Murmurs of befuddlement floated about, the drumming on the ceiling starting to drown them out.

The newly arrived crowd weren't the building's only occupants, however. Lining the edge of the combat grounds, rows upon rows of candles cast flickering shadows across the walls. Dozens of Hunters were strewn about, in ones and twos, standing over makeshift altars to their fallen classmates.

Ruby's throat tightened. Off to the right side of the auditorium, she spotted Velvet, sobbing as she held onto a framed picture. She laid it in a gap between the candles, bringing both hands to her face. Only Coco and Fox stood by her side.

"Oh no…" Weiss whispered.

Coco turned her head. Save for the sniffles and whimpers of the mourning students, the auditorium was completely silent.

"Hey," she said, her voice flat and empty.

"Wha–" Ruby began, cautiously approaching the three members of Team CFVY. Coco saw what she was staring at, however, and had no trouble understanding what she meant.

"He… he went after a marine that had tumbled over the edge." A single tear streaked down her left cheek. "Neither of them came back."

"I'm… sorry," Ruby stuttered. Weiss cast her eyes downward, and held them on the floor.

"Could you give us some space, please?" Fox rumbled, blank eyes still fixed on the flames.

After a few seconds of quiet, Weiss tugged on Ruby's sleeve, turning back towards the already-dispersing Huntsmen. "Come on," she said, "we should check in on Blake."

Before she turned to follow her partner, Ruby took one last look at the image on the mantlepiece. Staring into Yatsuhashi Daichi's broad, smiling face, she felt a cold chill run down her spine.

 _It could have been me,_ was the phrase that snaked through her mind. She'd gone over the edge too, that fateful afternoon. She'd done her best to save those caught in the Atlesians' bombardment, and almost died in the process. A scene played out in her head: Weiss, Blake, and Yang, all huddled together, crying over a memoir of their dead leader. Eyes wide and hands shaking, she whipped around and walked after her teammate.

 _It could have been me…_ The thought disgusted her. _Selfish, selfish, selfish!_ her mind screamed. She thought back to the bridge, and all those civilians she had mindlessly watched take their final plunge into the waves. Here she was, death's scythe striking all around her, and all she could think about was her own life.

 _And you dare call yourself a Huntress?_

She took one final look over her shoulder, taking in the entire auditorium of weeping students.

 _Fuck_ _this damn war._

* * *

The distant roars of Valic artillery rumbled from the north. They seemed much closer than they had been the previous day. Whatever that meant, Emerald Sustrai couldn't tell. Continuing her lethargic stroll down the battered streets of central Vale, she didn't care either way.

She came upon a crumpled soda can on the sidewalk, lying next to a heap of discarded baggage. She absentmindedly kicked it onto the street, watching it fall into an open manhole.

Like most days, life in the refugee camp was painfully dull. It had been established shortly after her evacuation from Amity Colosseum, and was located on the northern bank of the river that ran between the city's residential and commercial districts.

Or at least that's what she'd heard from a group of Vacuar Faunus chatting around a tire fire a few days back. She was, after all, no expert on Valic geography.

She heard a collection of voices from further up the street. "I heard they're preparing to evacuate the industrial zone," a woman said to a man who seemed to be her father. Her baggy clothes and high-pitched, halting accent were unmistakably South Mistralian.

"And where'd you hear _that?"_ the man scoffed, grimacing at his daughter's words. "Your scroll?"

Emerald brought a hand to her back pocket. The small device still sat there, inert and inoperative. Even if she had any battery power left to use it, the news was so heavily censored it had been rendered useless long ago.

Before the pair turned and recognized her, she pulled her hood over her head. She'd found it in a dumpster last evening, red and stiff with blood. The mere fact that it was even there surprised her. With leaves falling from and the trees and the cold starting to bite, any discarded pieces of clothing were claimed in a hurry. Still, she had other reasons for fishing that jacket out of the alleyway.

 _Too recognizable,_ she thought, breathing a sigh of relief as the two Mistralians resumed their conversation. Back during the early days of her stay in the camp, she drew many stares from those that recalled her from the tournament. Some were of awe. Others, of sympathy. She hated both. They reminded her of the things she'd fought in vain to forget.

 _I bet he'd be laughing at me right now,_ her mind mused, bringing with it a flood of painful memories. She clenched her fist, and wiped a single tear away from her face.

 _It's all her fault._

Rounding a corner, she headed down the street towards the main body of the camp. The cramped buildings of the commercial district abruptly gave way to clusters of Valic Army-issued canvas tents, sprawling all across the moist earth of the riverbank. Groups of people ambled about between the rows of shelters, bickering in Atlesian, Vacuar, or Mistralian. She recognized a few Hunters from the other teams of the tournament. Some were in company of their families, others on their own, their gazes far-off and unfocused.

She made her way through the maze of the camp, down the same route she'd memorized over days of mind-crushing boredom. Eventually, she reached her tent, squeezed in between those of a Faunus couple and a lone, Valic child. She pulled open its flaps and ducked inside, kneeling on the single blanket that occupied its interior. How the government couldn't spare any more to give to the throngs of tourists-turned-refugees from the Vytal Festival Tournament, Emerald had no idea.

She heard the far-off whine of jet engines, rapidly growing to an ear-piercing howl. As quickly as it rose, the cry died down as the squadron streaked away. Evidently, she reckoned, the Council had more pressure issues to worry about.

Then again, so did she. Her belly let out a long squelch, in protest of its emptiness. She hadn't been able to find any food that morning, and she didn't have any lien to buy from the makeshift shops that had sprung up around the camp, either.

With hunger scratching at her stomach, she recalled the day she met Cinder, almost two whole years ago. That day had been much like this one. Hungry, broke, and alone, she'd run into the woman that had given her everything. Now?

 _After all, you already did half the job for us._ Her words echoed in her head. After all this time, they still chilled her spine.

"Moping around won't get me anything to eat," she muttered to herself. Opting to not sit in the dark for another six hours, she rose from the blanket and ducked out of the tent, slinging her hood over head once again.

Conveniently enough, the old Vacuar in the tent across from her had chosen to convert his shelter into a pastry, selling bread and sweets he claimed to have made himself. Emerald knew he was full of it. Thievery was as common in the refugee center as it was in the poorest slums of her native Mistral.

"Ah, good afternoon, young lady!" he croaked, turning both rheumy eyes from his checkbook to her. "What may I help you with today?"

"Oh, I'm just looking around, that's all," she returned, locking both eyes on a single piece of bread that sat atop the rickety wooden counter. She could feel her mouth starting to drool.

"Do tell if you see anything you'd like," he added, scribbling a few numbers on the pages before him.

Staring at the feast before her, she felt as if she were right back in Mistral, all those years ago. Hungry, broke, and alone indeed, she reckoned.

 _Just like old times, huh?_

"No, I think I'll pass," Emerald said, raising her gaze to meet that of the shopkeeper. "Have a nice day!"

"Oh well. Take care, miss," he rasped. The old man smiled as Emerald snatched the loaf of bread from right under his nose.

* * *

General Ironwood sat in his command chair on the bridge of the _Ironclad,_ looking over the devastated remains of the Valic commercial district. It reminded him of images from the Great War, with buildings and homes reduced to rubble. With how this conflict was beginning to pan out, he reckoned it would surpass even the war of eighty years past.

 _Atlas lost that war. We won't lose this one._

Far below him, an enormous wave of figures in mottled green surged from the devastation. Another wave, this one pure black, emerged from the other side of the block, concrete and dirt fountaining into the air as the batteries farther south opened up. Many ships of the Atlesian fleet advanced with the infantry, raining down plasma onto the approaching horde.

He'd seen many pushes like this one within the past week. All they ever did was recover a few more meters of battered, useless ground. No matter how much firepower they emptied into the enemy, fresh swarms always poured out of Forever Fall.

The General returned his gaze to the console before him. _We're not here to sightsee,_ he reminded himself, sipping on a mug of coffee. _We've got a war to fight._

"Sir, incoming transmission from Army High Command," an officer rattled off from the lower levels of the bridge.

"Onscreen," the General ordered. The holographic pad materialized into the image of Winter Schnee, blood staining her Specialist uniform.

The General blinked in surprise at the sight. He only expected a lowly General Staff officer, not one of the most experienced Specialists in the entire Corps. He also only expected this to be a routine sitrep from the Northern Front. He now knew it would be anything but.

 _What the hell happened?_

"General Ironwood, sir!" she bellowed, her salute as crisp as ever.

Broken from his reverie, he replied. "At ease, Winter. What's the situation?"

She breathed in, composing herself before speaking. "Sir, our defenses on the Nordschranke mountains have been overrun. The Army is in full retreat back to the walls."

The news drew gasps and murmurs from the rest of the crew.

"How many divisions did we send up there again?" a trembling officer muttered.

"A few dozen? A hundred? _Verdammt,_ that line was supposed to be impenetrable!" another answered to his left.

"How did they break through?" The General rumbled, restoring quiet to the bridge.

"Numbers, sir. We knew they were coming. We bombarded them the moment they entered the range of our guns, but the barrage did next to nothing. When dawn broke, we saw them emerge from the tundra." She shivered. "They were… _everywhere._ We radioed for backup, but another horde swooped behind us from the southeast."

"What happened to the reinforcements?"

"Never arrived, sir. That horde intercepted them en route. It's like they were always one step ahead of us." She looked down and sighed. "General Braun detached along with the right flank to support our rear. The entire corps was wiped out. I had to direct the evacuation myself."

Ironwood slammed a fist on his armrest. _They were never this good._ "And General Braun?"

"Killed in action, sir."

This time, no one whispered. No one even moved. Clenching his jaw, the General leaned forward in his chair. "How many men do we have left?"

"5 divisions worth, sir. The entire robotic brigade was left behind to hold off the Grimm while we evacuated."

More whispers arose. Ironwood's fists tightened, his knuckles turning white. How many young Atlesians had he sent to their deaths? How many spouses would leave home draped in black the next morning? How many young tots would never see mom or dad again?

 _Too many. Too. Damn. Many._

Heaving a sigh, Ironwood continued. "Winter Schnee, I hereby assign you as the temporary commander of the remains of Third Army. Order the survivors to garrison in Atlas. Bombard the Grimm as soon as they freeze with the fall frost."

" _Jawohl, herr kommandant!"_ Winter saluted once again. "We will not fail."

The silence lingered after she cut the transmission, weighing down on the General and the crew alike. One of the officers from the lower level rose from his seat, turning towards his commanding officer.

"Sir, what will these casualties mean for our troops in the other kingdoms? The Kuchinashi line is on the brink of collapse, and only a miracle will keep the Grimm out of Vacuo!"

Another officer rose as well. "If we don't recall them back to the wall, sir, Atlas itself will fall!"

"And thus leave the other kingdoms defenseless?" a different crewmember retorted as she pointed to the raging battle below. "The only reason they haven't been overrun yet is because of _our_ aid! Beacon would have fallen if not for our marines!"

"Would you have Beacon remain standing in place of Atlas?" the first officer shot back. "Did you not hear Specialist Schnee? We are losing men at a rate our kingdom cannot sustain. Our only option is to consolidate against their overwhelming numbers."

The General stood up, silencing the rising argument. "What you do not understand, Warrant Officer, is that this war is not only about Atlas anymore. For the first time in Remnant's history, mankind stands united against a common foe. Were a single kingdom to fall, the billions of Grimm besieging it would turn to the next. And then the next. Before you knew it, we would stand alone instead of together."

The officer's mouth thinned, as he fixed the General with a reluctant gaze.

"By dividing the enemy's efforts, we ensure not only the survival of our beloved Atlas, but that of our allies as well," Ironwood continued. "So we stand our ground. Our troops will remain on foreign soil, and those at home will have to suffice. Do I make myself clear?"

"Aye aye, sir!" the three officers rattled off in unison.

"Good. Return to your posts. We have more pressing matters to attend to," he declared, sitting back down. "Half speed, pitch down 10 degrees."

"Half speed, down 10 degrees, _jawohl!"_ the ship's navigator echoed, fiddling with his holographic controls. The hull rumbled as the engines kicked in and the ship slowly accelerated.

The _Ironclad's_ bow pierced the thin layer of clouds, bringing the entire battle into view. Columns of armor and infantry stretched to the western horizon, tongues of flame leaping from the tanks. Fireballs erupted all along the swarm, ripping gaping holes in their ranks. However, they still pushed forward, devouring their way through the Valic lines.

"Fire all starboard-side missile pods! Open a path for our boys on the ground!"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

* * *

The rain pattered on Blake's shoulders, soaking the jacket she wore to combat it. It was merely a drizzle, but Weiss still insisted she take it. The pitch-black cloud had drifted to the east, now drenching the rest of the valley with deadly, acidic fluid. Next time she saw it, she reckoned, it would be brown instead of green.

She stood at the foot of Beacon Tower, looking over the improvised landing pad that dominated most of the plaza. It had been rigged by Atlas Navy engineers earlier that morning, one of the dozens installed around the academy that compensated for the loss of the docking platforms. They weren't nearly as grand as the ones they replaced, but Blake supposed they worked well enough.

 _That's Atlas, alright,_ she thought to herself. _Shoot first, ask questions later._ However much she disliked their methods, she supposed they worked well enough, too.

A sleek, silver figure emerged from the rooftops behind her, arcing down towards the plaza. The Atlesian Gunship's thrusters raised to full burn, scorching the pad beneath it. As the whine of its engines dropped off, the hatch below its tail popped open.

Taking timid steps down the ramp, Yang shook her wrists as one of the two robots with her in the bay removed her handcuffs. As soon as she reached the ground, the dropship raised its hatch and took off again, speeding off back towards Vale.

"Why the jacket, Blakey?" Yang said with a smirk. "Kitty afraid of the rain?"

Blake was about to respond, yet her throat tightened before she could speak. With her partner now returned, she was reminded of the circumstances that set them apart. She had tried broaching the subject before. She cried herself to sleep the very night she did.

 _Some things are best left alone,_ she thought, noticing Yang's grin begin to shift to a frown. _For now._

She sighed, and met her teammate's gaze with a smile. "Welcome back."

The two walked towards each other, embracing at the edge of the pad. Blake's nose twitched as she caught a whiff of her partner's hair.

 _I don't suppose they let prisoners shower up there._

Breaking away, Yang continued: "I'll never know how you managed to convince Ironwood to let me out. Guy seriously needs to learn how to take it easy every once in a while."

"Well, I never had to," Blake replied. Yang raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "He just said you earned it."

"So that sergeant wasn't such a tight-ass after all…" Yang muttered to herself.

"Huh? What sergeant?" Blake had no trouble hearing her hushed words.

"Oh, it's quite the story. I'll tell ya later," she returned, starting down the practiced route back towards the dorms. After a few seconds of silence, Yang spoke up again. "Where are Ruby and Weiss?"

"Inside," Blake answered.

"Damn, with this drizzle? Did Neptune's bug rub off on them or something?"

"No. Grimm rain."

"Ah, gotcha," Yang nodded, turning back to the path. Then, her eyes widened, and her head jerked back towards Blake. "Wait, _what?_ You're… joking, right?"

"Nope. Had as much trouble believing it myself. Turns out it's not just a legend."

For the first time since landing, Yang looked around. She saw the dead grass, turned a shade between yellow and brown. She saw the pockmarked concrete, some of the holes still steaming. Her face contorted into a grimace as she picked up the acidic stench.

The pair entered the academy's north wing, pushing open the blackened door. The halls were just as barren as the plazas outside.

"Where the hell is everybody?" Yang called out into the desolate hallway. "This place was always crowded!"

"Most students just wander the library and amphitheater nowadays," Blake answered. "Some left right as the panic started. Others, they…"

Yang closed her eyes, sighed, and clenched her fists. She didn't need her to finish the sentence.

At last, they came upon the elevator. Opening instantly, it too proved to be empty. They walked in, and Blake pushed the fourth floor button, the doors gliding shut with a metallic tap. Into the silence, Yang spoke up, her voice barely a whisper. "I still can't believe this is all my fault…"

"What?" Blake recoiled, snapping around towards her. "I thought you–"

"Thought I was innocent?" Yang finished for her. "Pfft. You know, being stuck on a ship for the better part of a week gives you an awful lot of perspective." She paused as the doors slid back open, and stepped out with Blake in tow. "Even if he attacked me, even if I just imagined the whole damn thing, I still killed him. No matter how you slice it, Blake, I still killed Mercury. And at the end of the day, that's all that matters. The Grimm sure don't give a fuck about what actually happened. All they know is that the entire human race is going apeshit, and someone just gave them the perfect chance to finish us off."

"Well..." Blake responded, her eyes fixed to the ground. "If it still matters to you, I trust you. No matter what happens, we're going to stick together. We don't have the luxury of wallowing in our shame when the entire world is at war for its very survival." She paused, glancing at her teammate's downcast eyes. "The Yang I know wouldn't give up this easily."

Yang froze in her tracks, turning to her partner. "Dammit, Blake, I swear you're the only reason I haven't gone off the rails yet," she sighed. "All of Remnant probably hates me, but you guys still back me up, even when you shouldn't."

"I thought I'd made that clear," Blake returned, eyes narrowed and focused. "We're a team. Come hell or high water, we're gonna stick together to the bitter end." Their eyes locked, amber staring into lilac. "And should that end come, we'll go down fighting. Together."

Yang held her gaze, a smile growing across her face. "You sure know how to deliver a speech," she quipped, pulling Blake into a tight embrace. "That means a lot. Thank you."

"No problem, you hothead," Blake chuckled, breaking off and tugging on Yang's arm. "Come on, now. You've got people waiting."

* * *

"Never seen the library this full," Ren muttered to Nora, sitting opposite from him on the table. "I just wish the reasons were more benign."

"Don't we all," she sighed back, glancing at the filled rows of computers below. "But where are they gonna go instead? How are they gonna talk to their families? On their scrolls?" She laughed. "Not likely!"

"Just goes to show how inept the Council is," Jaune scoffed to her left. "The jamming only makes us more anxious, not less! And guess what _that_ brings right to us."

"All we can do is hope they're okay," Pyrrha responded, shaking her head.

Nora and Ren's eyes met. His gaze was sharp and narrow. They had no family to pray for. No home to return to. Jaune, Pyrrha, and Beacon were all they had left.

Nora turned to them, watching the worry wash over their faces. _They've never known what it's like to lose everything,_ she thought. _And over my dead body, they never will._

"Have… you been able to talk to your parents?" Jaune asked Pyrrha, his tone cautious.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "No. I haven't heard from them since Amity. Or of Mistral, for that matter."

"Do you think…?" he continued, his voice trailing off.

"Potentially," Ren interjected. "With the huge swaths of territory controlled by Mistral, they're bound to be fighting on multiple wide fronts. With the Mistralian Army spread so thin, the Grimm have no doubt–"

"Ren!" Nora snapped, glaring at her partner.

"No, no, he's right!" Pyrrha added hastily, raising both palms. "But don't underestimate the will of the Army. My father served with them back in the day. They're tough. They'll fight like lions when driven into a corner."

"What good is that going to do?" he gritted back. "Their spirit won't save them against the hordes. If anything, when it breaks, it will spell their doom."

" _Ren!"_ Nora growled again, louder than the first. "This isn't like you!"

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're right. My apologies, everyone," Ren answered. "I just… don't know what to expect anymore."

Nora's eyes widened. For someone so certain and confident as Ren, seeing doubt seep through his ironclad facade chilled her more than the rumors coming down from the Atlesian front.

"Don't sweat it, buddy," Jaune reassured him. "None of us do."

Silence fell once again upon the four students, their eyes darting nervously amongst each other. Nora leaned forward in her chair, leaving her chin on the table. "So I heard Yang came back."

None of her teammates answered. Throughout the entire week, it had been the one subject they'd tried to avoid. They'd all been there during the disaster at Amity. They'd all seen her murder Mercury Black.

"I'm… glad," Ren finally replied, hesitation thick in this voice. "At least we'll get some closure on the matter."

"For better or worse," Jaune added, sighing.

Pyrrha was about to speak, yet the idle chatter in the library's lower level picked up. They rose to excited mutters and calls of names, urging those not yet there to one of the computers along the many rows.

"Holy shit, guys, I got a signal!" a student cried out. "Live from Vacuo!"

Team JNPR paused to exchange looks, and then shot out of their chairs and down to the ground floor. Nora had to wade through the growing crowd to even catch a glimpse of the screen.

The feed was shaky, taken from someone's scroll. The murmurs died as audio began to come through. Panting, screams, and that same, ever-present howl came out from the speakers. Crates, garbage cans, and bodies were strewn about the alleyway the recorder was running down. The emblem of the White Fang was graffitied on the walls in bright red.

"Those damn faunus…" one of the students muttered. Many of his classmates shushed him down.

"Look! The tower!" a disembodied voice came from beyond the camera. The owner of the scroll whipped around, just in time to catch three fireballs erupt along the flank of an enormous spire. Its sides were covered in craters, exposing an intricate mesh of steel beams.

"It's the CCT!" another hunter cried out. Gasps shot through the crowd, and Nora's jaw fell open.

Like rolling thunder, the explosions' reports roared through the device, along with the horrible groan of metal. The cry rose and rose, a grating sound that made Nora cringe. The camera shifted to the top of the tower, where its tip began to swell.

"Run! RUN!" a different voice shouted. The feed was reduced to a blur, streaks of dreary gray and beige covering the screen. Abruptly, the stream stabilized, the scroll's camera looking sideways down from a nook in the ground.

Three figures sprinted by, shrinking as they ran deeper into the alleyway. Out from behind a building, a Beowolf dived onto the leading runner, sinking its fangs into her neck. The other two halted, staring at their fallen companion.

A massive shadow then swept over the gravel, causing the last two to whip around. Eyes wide and knees shaking, they let out a shrill scream before the feed cut to black.

No one moved. No one spoke. In the silence, Nora heard hands ruffling in pockets. She took out her scroll and flipped it open. Across the top of the screen, emblazoned in prominent, red letters, read:

 **NO SIGNAL.**

Her hands began to tremble. The scroll slipped from her fingers. She never felt it hit her foot.


	9. Sun In The North

The four girls all sat in the space between their makeshift bunks, huddled around a radio set issued by an Atlas Navy officer. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, turning the western sky a bright red. Yet, like streaks of ink across a blank canvas, narrow, black smokestacks still rose from the city center. Just like they had for last two days.

Oddly enough, the scene seemed peaceful to Weiss. After everything that happened, she was content with the heavy, static silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic breathing of her teammates.

Yet, it was a silence none of them dared to break. When the officer handed them their set, he'd said the upcoming broadcast was of dire importance. His stern words still rang in her ears:

" _Broadcast straight from Atlas Military HQ at 8. Do not miss it. Without the CCT, this is all you're going to get."_

She looked around at the rest of her team. Ruby shifted in place, tapping her fingernails on the wooden floor. Blake and Yang both bore the same, impassive mask, flicking their gaze between the device and the clock on their bookshelf. Its analog display read 19:56.

Sighing, she looked back down to the radio. It looked like it came straight from the trenches of the Great War, with its endless gauges and toggles littering its weathered surface. Perhaps, it might just have. Recalling her endless hours in Oobleck's lecture hall, personal radio sets had gone out of production ever since the CCT went online, allowing for instantaneous, interpersonal communication. Now, it was gone, and Remnant had no choice but to scramble back to its roots.

She clenched her fist. Everyone had heard of the hijacked broadcast in the library. The collapse of the Vacuo CCT tower was no accident. The question was, who did it? Weiss recalled the report she'd read all those days ago. In her mind, there was no other suspect.

 _The White Fang. Siding with the Grimm like the beasts they always were._

A crackle of static brought her out of her rage. The four girls snapped forwards, holding their breath.

"This is Atlas Army regional HQ speaking," said a monotonous, accented male voice, a thunder that shattered the silence. "Today, the Valic Third Army has driven the hordes of Grimm out of the agricultural sector of the city, and has established a defensive line on the ruins of the southern wall. The rugged terrain of the area to the south has made it punishingly difficult for the enemy to make significant progress, and as construction crews are sent to repair the city's defences, the generals predict our forces will have a much easier time fending off any further assault."

Blake, to her right, breathed an audible sigh of relief. Beyond the door of their dorm, a high-pitched whoop was quickly followed by frantic shushing.

"However, heavy fighting continues in the industrial and commercial districts. Several sectors have already been overrun, despite attempts at defense and bombardment. Thousands have been evacuated on the river's waterfront and taken deeper into the kingdom, yet many areas remain inaccessible with civilians still inside. Our armed forces are doing everything in their power to secure and relocate as many citizens as possible."

No victorious cheer followed that remark. Blake grunted, Ruby whimpered, and Weiss' fists tightened.

 _Just how many people have died in those warehouses and factories?_ she wondered. _Hundreds? Thousands? Millions?_ She doubted she would ever know the answer, and wished she never would.

 _What difference does it make? Whether he tells us or not, the Grimm will come either way._

She looked around at her teammates once again. Ruby looked down, a pained grimace growing over her features. Blake's stare remained fixed, eyes narrow and fierce. And Yang… Millions of emotions crossed her face in an instant, a mixture of bottomless guilt and unbridled rage.

 _Just one more drop in an endless ocean._

* * *

As the radio announcer droned on from the exploits of the Vale-based offensives to the brutal fighting on the Atlas front, Jaune looked around the room. Ren leaned on the wall opposite from him, taking in the broadcaster's ramblings much like a soldier receiving orders. Nora kneeled on one of the beds, eyes glued to the radio and fists clenched tight. Pyrrha sat on a chair in the corner, fiddling with her thumbs as she stared at the floor.

The entire day had gone by in a flash. After the events of last evening, Beacon had grown even more quiet than before. Had it not been for the radios handed out by the Atlesians, Jaune was sure he'd be asleep by now out of sheer boredom. The promise of news from the outside world did wonders to keep him awake.

The news they got, however, was less than encouraging.

 _Pushed back at Atlas, held at Vale, pummelled at Mistral, surrounded at Vacuo…_ his inner strategist listed. _And all before the collapse of the CCT…_ He grunted, pounding his fist on the wall behind him.

 _It's only been two weeks since the tournament began…_ Jaune reminisced. _Feels like a lifetime ago._ He wondered just how long those carefree days would take to return.

His idle musing was interrupted by a pencil hitting his chest. He raised his head, startled, and stared at Ren from across the room.

"Woah, what was that for? I'm right here!" Jaune sputtered.

"If you were, you would have heard we're getting drafted," Ren retorted, matter-of-factly as always.

Nora hopped off the bed, shambling over to the room's center. Pyrrha remained seated to his right, hands fidgeting in her lap. As Ren's words sunk in, his eyes widened.

"Wait, _what?"_ he stuttered. "Why? What happened?"

Ren simply cocked his head towards the radio under the window. Jaune began to hear the announcer's mechanical voice as the conversation lulled.

"...the Valic Council orders all trainees from Year 1 and above to report to Vale Army HQ no later than tomorrow at 2100 hours. Atlesian transport ships will arrive at Beacon at noon sharp. Heavy casualties at the front have made it impossible to…"

The reporter's words faded away once again as Jaune's mind went numb. His breath hitched, and he felt a ball of ice in his stomach.

 _No… No, they can't do this! We're just students!_

Another corner of his mind scoffed. _Of course they can, dumbass._ They _are the Council._ They _are in control._

"Those monsters…" Nora growled, looking over her shoulder at the radio set. "Ozpin would have never allowed this!"

"Something tells me he never had a say to begin with," Pyrrha sighed. "Besides, isn't it our job to protect Vale anyways? What good are we as Hunters if we don't?"

Nora looked down, a frown spreading across her face. Jaune felt the shame too, deep in the core of his being. He'd been thinking along the exact same lines as his teal-eyed partner.

 _Is this what war does to people? Do ideals even matter anymore?_

"She's right," Ren said, pushing himself off the wall. "Hunters were created to fight the Grimm. If we shy away from our duty when it matters most, then we do not deserve the title to begin with."

Nora's face hardened at his words, determination erasing the doubt that remained. "Yeah… I like the sound of that. Let's teach those slobbering fools a lesson."

"No complaints here," Jaune added. He too stepped away from the wall, heading over to the window under which the radio sat. He heard the monotone static coming from the set, just as it had in the tense minutes leading up to the broadcast.

Before he turned it off, his eyes fell on the sword sheathed on his hip. He remembered the day his father had given it to him, and all the tales of his ancestors' exploits. In the trenches and the open field, against the Mantlites and the Grimm, it had protected all those who wielded it. He wrapped his fist around its hilt, squeezing the taut leather.

 _You ready for another war, buddy?_

The sword remained quiet as he shut the radio down.

* * *

Ozpin sat in the chair of his deserted office, looking out at the expanse of the academy beneath him. Every passing day, the visage grew more and more alien. Half-filled craters and dead grass replaced the once proud greenery, and a jagged, uneven precipice stood in place of the docks.

He let his eyes drift across the devastated landscape, settling on the space between the archways of the courtyard. Here, the craters and ditches had indeed been filled, but not just with dirt. From above, he could see the macabre pattern of mounds and weapons, arranged in neat rows next to the blackened water of the pond.

Those were his students. The same ones who, for months, he'd tutored and guided. He'd armed them with the skills and knowledge to take on the outside world. Or so he had thought.

He gulped down the remainder of his coffee, grimacing at the taste. His supply of Vacuar beans had expired earlier that morning. He wondered how long it would take for the bitter ersatz to follow suit.

Behind him, the soft click of the elevator doors brought him back to the present. He swivelled around, setting his empty mug back on its coaster and meeting the General's cold blue eyes.

"Evening, Oz," Ironwood said, stepping out of the elevator with a purposeful stride.

"I suppose you know why I summoned you here, General," the Headmaster replied, setting his elbows on the desk.

One of the General's eyebrows shot up as he halted in the middle of the office. "I'm afraid I do not. You weren't exactly explicit."

The Headmaster grabbed the radio on the corner of his desk and set it between himself and Ironwood. "Does this clear up your mind?"

"Ah, that," he replied. "Concerning the deployment of your students, I imagine."

"So then, mind explaining your reasoning?"

At this, the General's features hardened. "You were awfully eager to have them join the defense of Beacon. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"That was different. You even asked me to give my approval. What authority do you have to give them orders?"

"The Council's, Oz."

"And since when can _they_ decide matters pertaining to the Academy? This isn't Atlas, General."

Ironwood took a swig from the flask on his hip, pacing around the room's center. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, Ozpin. The Council had enough sense to see for themselves. I hoped you would as well."

"Do not mistake desperation with arrogance, James. This war has been devastating, yes, but it is still young. Isn't it too early to abandon our ideals in the name of victory?"

"If those ideals only hamper our path to it, there is nothing to gain by keeping them."

The two men glared at each other, amber clashing with blue. Behind Ozpin, the clock continued its inexorable ticking, weighing down the silence between them.

Finally, it was the Headmaster who broke it. "Ethics aside, General, you are sending _children_ to fight your war. They are simply not ready."

"Do you doubt their abilities, Ozpin? the General gritted. "They performed admirably at the Battle of Beacon. Better than I'd expect Academy trainees to, especially under such difficult circumstances." He took a deep breath, looking out to the Valic skyline beyond the office's glass. "If anything, it is the Army who is unprepared."

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't seen the front line," he rumbled. "Those soldiers aren't trained to fight Grimm. They're trained to fight _humans._ How high is the bodycount nowadays?"

The number sat on his tongue, burning his mouth every second it remained. He swallowed it back, glaring at the man before him.

"If that's the case, why don't you summon the professional Huntsmen instead of my students?"

Ironwood sighed. "That was the original plan. Before–"

"Before what?" Ozpin snarled.

"Before the Grimm landed on Patch."

Once again, the room descended into quiet. The Headmaster took a deep breath as he shut his eyes. Every tick of the clock seemed hours apart.

"And why wasn't this reported sooner?" Ozpin retorted. "Withholding information won't do you any good, General."

"You don't understand, do you? It's the only way," the General continued. "Are you willing to cause another panic? Our lines are barely holding as it is. We need to calm the populace down, reassure them that the situation is under control."

"But it _isn't._ The fact that you are willing to send adolescents into the battlefield is quite telling of–"

"And what other choice do we have?" Ironwood shouted. "Think of the alternative. Do you want to be the man who orders those Hunters to abandon their homes? Their friends? Their _families?!"_

Ozpin remained silent, glowering at the the General.

 _The lies fed to the public… the drafting of my students… In principle, his logic is irrefutable._

He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms.

 _Irrefutable, yes. But oh, so very wrong..._

"Just know this, General." Ozpin stood from his chair, narrowed eyes staring deep into those of his counterpart. "I will hold you personally accountable for every single casualty my students sustain."

The General's icy glare grew even colder. "That is simply a risk I am willing to take."

He turned away from the headmaster, walking down to the elevator at the other end of the office. The setting sun cast an amber gradient down the back of his white uniform, blending his receding figure with the back wall of the room.

He paused, swinging his head halfway back to Ozpin. "Remember when I asked you if your children could win a war?"

"Our current situation has given me an unwelcome reminder, yes," Ozpin sighed. The doors of the lift opened, and the General stepped into the proffered chamber.

"I think it's finally time we answer that question," he declared, his solemn voice reverberating from the elevator. The panels closed with a soft click, leaving the Headmaster to his own thoughts within his deserted office.


	10. Breath of Life

Ruby stood on the yellow grass of Beacon's courtyard, looking out at the transport ships that lined the edge of the cliff. They were the same ones that had carried her off of Amity Colosseum, their broad ramps resting on the soil. She counted ten of them, masses of students gathered before all of them.

"Uh, which one are we on again?" Ruby asked, turning to the rest of her team behind her.

"Barge number 4," Weiss replied, pointing at the fourth ship in the line.

"You sure that ain't barge number 3?" Yang quipped. "We don't wanna _barge_ onto the wrong ship, y'know."

Weiss rolled her eyes, drawing out a chuckle from her blonde teammate. While the rest of her team stepped forward, Ruby gazed up to the tower behind her, stretching into the clear, blue, autumn sky. She recalled the first time she saw it, marvelling at how high it rose above the Beacon skyline.

 _It feels like so long ago… Is this the last time I'll ever see it again?_

She felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw Blake, having left Weiss and Yang to walk forward without her.

"Everything alright?" she asked.

Ruby's eyes fell to her boots, and she scratched the back of her neck. "Yeah, it's just…"

"Worried we won't see it again?" Blake said, a corner of her mouth twitching into a smile. "Don't worry. When this is all over, we'll come back."

"Let's hope," she replied. She looked back one last time, taking in the entire academy with a single glance.

 _Let's hope._

Turning back around, she recognized the four members of JNPR, standing at the back of the crowd and gazing up at the towering frame of the fourth barge. Nora snapped around as they drew near, waving her arm in a wide arc.

"Hey, guys!" she shouted, startling the rest of her team. They all turned back, some of the worry disappearing off their faces.

She trotted up to close the distance, pulling Nora into a quick embrace. Everyone else exchanged greetings, be they a hug, a nod, or a fist bump. Yet, as soon they finished, all of JNPR's eyes locked on Yang. She fidgeted under their gaze, gripping the straps of her backpack and flicking her eyes to the ground.

Pyrrha was the first to break the silence, ending it as suddenly as it had set. "Are you alright, Yang?"

Startled, she raised her head. Stuttering, she replied. "I… w-well, I… could be better, I suppose."

"Couldn't we all…" Jaune muttered.

"Well, at least we're alive and in one piece," Ren added. Everyone nodded, but no one continued. His teammates exchanged looks, fiddling with their packs.

In the silence, Ruby heard hushed voices from the other students assembled around them. Almost everyone had their eyes planted firmly on her sister. Some stared with mixed pity and sorrow. Others made no effort to hide their contempt. She wrapped an arm around Yang's shoulder, feeling the tension and fury trapped within her muscles.

"Look! It's Ozpin!" someone shouted, pointing back to the pathway from which they came. Similar calls came from all the other barges, the students turning to face their headmaster. At his mere presence, all chatter died in an instant.

Followed by Glynda, Ironwood, and an army of Beacon staff, he ambled slowly up to the cliff, cane clacking on the stone beneath him. Hard lines crossed his face, a deep melancholy Ruby had never before seen. As he stopped at the edge of the second archway, her knees began to tremble.

 _Wha… What happened?_

"Students," he began, his voice booming across the plateau. "Today, we find ourselves at war. Our friends, our loved ones, and even our very academy have fallen victim to its onslaught."

He swept both his arms around him, encompassing not only the devastated courtyard, it seemed, but the entirety of Remnant as well.

"It is no secret that this war has caught us all off guard. Some of you will be ready to face the horrors to come. Some of you will not. Others will live to see the day we rid this world of our enemy once and for all. Others... will not be as fortunate."

"Man, talk about motivational…" Nora muttered, eyes glued to the ground. Many more students stood with heads hung down, eyes shut and fists clenched. In the quiet, Ruby heard sobs from the back of the crowd.

"But it is nevertheless our duty, as Huntsmen and Huntresses, to protect mankind from the creatures of Grimm, whatever the cost. The enemy will not wait for graduation day. Thus, neither can we. So when you meet that enemy once again, remember this:

"Not all of you might be prepared. Not all of you might live to return. Yet, in spite of that, you fight. In spite of being afraid or alone, you fight! In spite of everything, you still fulfill your duty. And _that_ shall be left as this war's greatest monument. That even during Remnant's darkest hour, you still rose to defend it."

Heads began to nod across the crowd, Ruby's teammates included. She reached behind her to Crescent Rose, feelings its cold steel in her hands.

"So go forth, my students. I believe I have kept you here long enough."

He paused, heaving an enormous sigh.

"And may the gods watch over us all."

Not a second after he finished speaking, a buzz of activity began at the ramp to the barge. Students began shuffling forward as the soldiers at the entrance stepped aside.

"Board the ship in a quick and orderly fashion!" a voice yelled beyond the forest of heads. "There's room for everyone! We're departing in fifteen minutes!"

The crowd was silent as it inched towards the hangar bay. As Ruby neared the threshold, she heard a marine mutter to her right:

"Man, that old geezer sure takes his sweet ass time…"

She looked back to the Headmaster. He stood alone on the pathway, the rest of the staff heading back to the academy. His expression remained stoic as he swept his gaze across the cliff. He caught Ruby's eye and gave her a stern nod.

Before she could return the gesture, the belly of the barge enveloped her, and the bay doors began to close with a wailing alarm. First, the courtyard vanished beneath the metal. Then, the rooftops. Finally, the tower disappeared along with the sky, as the ramp closed with a hydraulic click.

 _The last time, huh…_

Sighing, she turned around, and was surprised to see row after row of airplane seats bolted to the deck. She recalled the evacuation from Amity, the decks of the barges crammed to the brim with panicking tourists.

 _So the Atlesians learned..._

As she shambled behind her team towards an empty row near the middle, the inane drone of students taking their seats faded into the background. Ozpin's words echoed in her head, her hands beginning to shake.

 _Am I not ready? Am I not gonna make it?_

Quietly, she filed into the row, shimmying in between the cramped seats. She unslung her pack and sat down next to Yang. She took out her weapon, laying it across her lap.

Looking around at the seated students, she remembered the graves, lining the edge of the inner courtyard. She remembered Velvet, sobbing over a picture of her fallen teammate. She remembered the victims of Amity, impaled on the deck or tumbling over the side. And most of all, she remembered _them:_ their claws, their shrieks, and their eyes.

Her grip on Crescent Rose tightened. She felt her nails bend against its frame.

 _It's all their fault. And they will pay._

* * *

The barge lurched, jerking Weiss awake. Her head bumped against the bulkhead, separated from the cold steel by a jacket. Rubbing her eyes, she looked left to the rest of her team.

Blake leaned back into her seat, mouth agape and eyes closed. Ruby's head laid on Yang's shoulder, the former breathing quietly while the latter drummed her fingers on her knee. She took notice of Weiss having awoken, and turned to face her, a smirk on her face.

"Done with your beauty sleep, princess?" she remarked.

"Ha, ha," Weiss returned, little more than a tired whisper. "How long has it been?"

"Around two hours. We should be almost there."

"And how do you know that?" she asked, gesturing to the hangar around them. "This thing doesn't have any windows."

Yang snorted. "I've done this route plenty of times, Ice Queen. You should try almost five hours to Patch."

 _So somewhere over central Vale, then._ Weiss reckoned. _Makes sense for the military headquarters._

As if on cue, the ship's speakers began to crackle, and the accented voice of the captain came through.

"Landing at Valic Army High Command in two minutes. Remain seated until the barge has stopped, and disembark quickly to make room for the next one."

"Told ya," Yang chuckled, poking Ruby and Blake to wake them up. Both groaned as they regained their bearings, taking stock of their belongings and grabbing their packs.

From a few rows in front, Weiss heard Nora's voice, clear and sharp over the murmurs of the rest.

"Can't these damn Atlesians be bothered to give us more time? I could have used that half an hour ago!"

"Nora, it shouldn't take you more than five minutes to prepare your things," Ren replied. "And please, could you be–"

"Says the guy who only brought a book and extra clothing!" Nora shot back. He replied with a long, tired sigh.

 _It can't be helped, I suppose,_ she thought as she stowed her jacket and pulled her bag onto her lap in a single, swift motion. _She isn't used to Atlas._

Out from the front of the hangar, four marines trotted down the aisle, whispering hushed acknowledgements into their radios. They stopped at the back of the hangar, taking positions at the sides of the raised ramp. One of them turned towards the students, as the deck shook and the whine of the engines rose to a shriek.

"Take the elevators down and file out into the parade ground! We got six more transports circling overhead, and they sure as hell don't have all day, so make it quick!"

At last, the barge jerked to a halt, the alarms screaming as the bay door dropped.

 _"Aus, aus, aus!"_ the marine shouted, waving the students out.

He didn't need to translate. As soon as the ramp touched the platform, the hunters surged forth, filtering out onto the aisle. Weiss stood up, ambling out of her row behind Blake.

As the tide carried her past the Atlesian marines, covered in body armor and toting their plasma rifles, she felt as if she stepped back in time.

Their Valic counterparts looked to be of a previous era, military police in plain, dark-green uniforms carrying rifles with shining, silver bayonets. Stone-faced and backs straight, they lined the pad all the way to the building's main structure, a tall spire protruding from the headquarters below.

On the two other landing platforms, students marched forward, heads down, under the watchful gaze of the MPs. Six more transports loomed high above, hovering in the clear sky. As the final Hunter stepped off the barge to the right, its engines fired with a mighty roar. The craft took off from the pad, drew back its ramp, and streaked off to the north– towards the front.

She followed the barge as it flew towards the horizon, drawing her gaze to the rest of the landscape. The sprawling expanse of central Vale stretched out in every direction, an endless sea of concrete and brick. In small patches, towers and skyscrapers grew out of the skyline, with raised highways threading the spaces between them.

Another barge took the place of the last, blocking her view once again. More students poured out from it as soon as it touched down.

Eventually, she stepped inside the spire, her vision reduced to blank, khaki walls and a stale, red carpet. An elevator sat in between each of the four entranceways, and students massed in the room's center while they waited for the lifts. Idle chatter drifted through the air, nothing more than a mindless hum.

"When I thought of 'Valic Army High Command' I never imagined an office building," Yang remarked, flicking her gaze between the bare walls and ceiling.

"We're not here to judge the aesthetics, Yang," Weiss returned. "What I'm more concerned about is where exactly the parade grounds are."

"Just follow everyone else, I suppose," Ruby put in.

A soft ding came from the left, and the crowd moved towards it. One of the elevators had arrived, the empty chamber as dull and metallic as the inside of the barge. Weiss and her teammates drifted into the enormous lift, finding an empty corner in the back.

As the doors closed and the elevator dropped, her' mind wandered. _Why_ does _the army need us?_ she thought. _Are they really that desperate?_

She leaned against the back wall. _Why not the professional Hunters? Why_ us? She sighed, looking up at the steel ceiling. She doubted she'd ever find out.

 _Like a wave, this war swept over us before we even knew it. And like a wave, it now sweeps us up along with it._

The opening elevator brought a sudden end to her musing. The students spilled out, draining the lift as fast as they had filled it. A single Valic officer stood in between all four shafts, pointing down a hallway to the right.

"Parade ground's that way!" he called out, waving his arm to emphasize its direction. "The General's waiting!"

"The General?" Ruby wondered out loud. "Ironwood?"

"Haven't heard of General Kitchener?" the officer asked, a grin spreading across his face. "She's something alright. You kiddos are in for a treat."

"How comforting," Blake remarked.

"Wonder what she's like…" Yang mused, as the tide of students carried them deeper into the complex.

Only the clacking of shoes and the mutters of voices echoed through the room. Yet, as they crossed the next entryway, the entire building buzzed to life with activity.

Officers and aides sprinted down the halls, both with and against the crowd. Some carried folders or boxes, others toting rifles. A few older men watched the students stream past, smoking pipes or drinking coffee. Weiss' eyes met with those of a major, resting against a doorframe and holding a mug. His face hardened into a scowl, and he downed the rest of his coffee before retreating back into the room.

"What's up with _him?"_ Yang muttered, leaning close to her.

"I don't know…" Weiss replied.

"Sure didn't look thrilled to see us," Yang added, skulking back up the crowd to the rest of RWBY.

 _I doubt much of the military is…_

At last, the winding passageways gave way to open air, the students passing beneath a door large enough to fit a Paladin. Weiss blinked as the sun glared in her eyes. Once they adjusted, she saw the crowd of students gathered below her, sprawled over a great expanse of concrete. At the center, a Valic flag rose into air, fluttering in the soft breeze.

"Looks like this is the place," Blake deadpanned. "Come on."

As she stepped forward, Weiss looked behind her, letting out a low whistle. The base's spire stretched skyward, towering over the compound's main structure. She saw one last airship head northward, and noticed none more remained circling above.

Turning her head back down, she walked down the stairs towards the parade ground. Dozens of structures sprung up ahead of it, dotting the landscape between her and the walls. Off in the distance, an infantry regiment trotted around a track, their chants a soft whisper over the milling of the students.

"I never thought military bases were this nice," Ruby chirped, keeping pace with Weiss as they ambled down the staircase.

"You haven't seen Atlas then," she returned.

"Well, that just means you'll have to–" Ruby began, yet abruptly stopped. Her steps halted, jaw dropped, and eyes widened.

Looking in the same direction as her, Weiss spotted what she had seen: a familiar tuft of ginger, almost orange, hair, crowning a figure clad in green and grey. It turned around, cast a beaming smile, and waved both hands in the air.

"Ruby!" Penny shouted. "Over here!"

"By the gods, Penny!" she cried out, bounding down the stairs and sprinting across the concrete. The pair twirled around in a tight embrace, hopping up and down with excitement. Yet, as Weiss looked on, she recalled the report she'd read back in Beacon. She too stopped in her tracks.

 _Does she even know what her mere existence has caused?_

"What are you just standing there for?" Yang called out, motioning her over to the rest of her team. "Get over here!"

Without replying, she walked towards her teammates, now gathered around Penny and exchanging greetings. Still, as she approached, her mind became a labyrinth of conflict.

 _Doesn't she deserve to know?_

 _But that information is classified!_

 _To hell with that, you almost told Ruby anyway!_

 _Almost…_

"Oh, Ruby, I was so worried!" Penny exclaimed, breaking Weiss away from her trance. "When I heard Beacon was attacked I couldn't help but wonder if…"

"Well, we all came out alright," Ruby returned. "What about the industrial district? Weren't you there?"

At her words, Penny's face contorted into a pained grimace.

"What's the situation there like?" Blake interjected. "I've heard all sorts of rumors…"

She broke away from her friend's arms, heaving a massive sigh.

"Well… it's… not good," she stammered. "I did everything I could, but we just kept falling back. I told the officers over and over we had to rescue all the people trapped in the factories! But they wouldn't listen…"

"So you just… left them there?" Yang gasped.

"No… no…" Penny stuttered, starting to tremble. "W-we had airships, we had Bullheads, we had everything! We… we could have saved them!"

Ruby grasped both her shoulders. "Calm down, Penny. What happened?"

She took a deep breath before answering. "We… had orders straight from the Chief of Staff, General Kitchener… She told us to abandon all civilians and retreat immediately across the river."

The name sent the four girls of RWBY into a stunned silence.

"I-isn't that…" Blake stuttered.

"That rotten bitch…" Yang growled, clenching both her fists.

 _So_ that's _what she's like…_

"We had our orders…" she continued, her voice now a shaken whisper. "I didn't have a choice… I couldn't stop them…"

"Guys, look!" Jaune's voice rang out from the crowd, silencing their chatter. "Over there!"

His arm pointed towards a raised platform, upon which a tall figure began walking forward. Her dark red hair flowed over her ornate uniform, pinned with rows upon rows of medals. She stopped at the edge of the stage, scanning the Hunters below her. Even obscured by her peaked cap, her gaze was piercing, a sharp scowl that swept to either side.

"I assume Ozpin has already graced you with a speech, so I'll keep this brief," the figure declared, her words booming across the parade grounds. "I am General Tora Kitchener, Chief of Staff of the Valic Army. From this day forward, you are all under my command."

The students stood silent, heads craned up at the General or fixed firmly on the ground. Yang spat on the concrete, and Penny shook in place.

Another figure, this one short and blonde, ambled up to the General's left, standing slightly behind her superior.

"Lieutenant Oswald here has already assigned all your teams into battalions," the General said. "Report back here at first light tomorrow. We're shipping you out to the Commercial District."

With a crisp about-face, General Kitchener turned away from the edge and stepped off the podium, her adjutant stepping up to take her place. She whipped out her scroll, and raised her head to face the students.

"Step forth as called and proceed to your assigned barracks!" she bellowed, shattering the brief silence left by the General's departure. She called the first team on her list, and four students from the center of the parade grounds shuffled their way towards its edge.

As the crowd thinned, Weiss' mind began to wander. She looked around at the eyes of the students around her: empty and devoid of emotion.

 _Just two weeks ago…_ she mused. _Just two weeks ago we were so carefree._

Like mindless droids, they shambled off into the distance as Oswald ticked them off her list. Eventually, one of her shouts caught Weiss' attention.

"Team RWBY, Epsilon Barracks!"

The four girls stirred from their spots, wandering away from the parade grounds and into the vast field surrounding the main headquarters.

Ruby waved Penny goodbye, sighing as she turned around. "Don't worry, guys. We'll be alright." A strained smile spread across her lips.

"If only it were that simple," Yang muttered. Ruby's mouth faded back into a frown.

 _Just two weeks ago we still had our lives. Now all we have is war._

* * *

Ren sat on the edge of his bunk, idly leafing through the pages of his book. Nora's legs dangled from above, tapping against the metallic frame. Moonlight filtered through the door and window to the right, casting a silver glow that mingled with the muted yellow from the room's only bulb.

"'The Ballad of King Taijitu…'" Nora read, leaning her head over the edge between her knees. "Is it any good?"

"It's… alright," he mumbled back. "I've read better."

A small frown crossed Nora's face, and she leapt down from her bed, spinning around to face Ren.

"Something on your mind?"

"Yeah… Yang," he replied. "I noticed how the other students stared at her this morning. As if she was some sort of… _demon._ "

Nora remained silent, leaving the laughter and jeers from deeper within Epsilon Barracks as the only sound in the room.

"I mean… can you blame them?" Jaune broke in from across the room, laying in bed and fiddling with his dead scroll. "Many of them lost teammates during the battle. They're scared, they're angry. Who else are they gonna direct it towards?"

Ren grunted, slipping a bookmark between the pages and standing up. "I'm going to go talk to her. She needs to know we're on her side."

"Ren–!" Nora stammered, holding out both palms against his chest.

He stared at her, eyes narrowing. "Are saying we aren't?"

She shrunk back, fidgeting. "Well, n-no, I–"

Above Jaune, Pyrrha shifted in her sheets, peering over from the bunk's edge. "I understand how you feel, Nora. It's hard to trust someone after… _that._ "

"What other choice do we have?" Ren shot back. "The _real_ enemy is still out there, while we're here fighting amongst ourselves. Who does that help?"

"We know that, Ren," Nora returned. "But it's not something we can just ignore."

"It's not something we can afford to dwell on, either."

Once again, the room grew quiet. Jaune cleared his throat, sitting up in his bunk. "For what it's worth, I think you're both right. But for now, we just have to trust her. Deal with the Grimm first, and come back to this when we can."

"It may not be easy," Pyrrha added. "But it's our best option."

Gazing down, Ren caught Nora's eyes. Her gaze was soft, almost pleading him to stay behind. He slipped an arm behind her waist, pulling her into a quick embrace.

"Don't worry. It'll be alright."

She nodded, head resting in the nook of his neck. He broke off, turned around, and stepped towards the door.

"Their room is the second to last to the left," Pyrrha said. "Good luck, Ren."

"Yeah, man. Good luck," Jaune echoed.

Nodding, he stepped out, steps muffled by the carpet underneath. Passing by the entrance to a balcony, he halted to gaze at the shattered moon. It hovered over the complex's walls, bathing the grass beneath in a sheen of white.

As he was about to keep walking, however, he saw a tuft of bright yellow hair shoot across the glass. It, and the gloved hand that flicked it, were unmistakable.

 _What is she doing out here?_ he wondered, rapping his fist on the window to draw the figure's attention.

Yang peeked out from behind the wall, annoyance replaced by surprise as she recognized him. She dragged the glass door open, flashing him a warm grin.

"Well, talk about unexpected. You need somethin'?"

"I was just wondering if you had some time to talk."

"Yeah, sure do," she replied, turning back and cocking her head outwards. "Come on out. The breeze is lovely."

He stepped onto the balcony, closing the door behind him. He leaned onto the railway and looked out at the base's expanse. The wind whistled across the field, swaying the grass and cooling his hands and face.

 _She's right. It_ is _lovely._

"So, what do you have in mind?" she asked, joining Ren on the handrail. "It's not often you and I get to chat."

"You can blame Nora for that," he chuckled. "She was always rather… _possessive._ "

"Oh, we've noticed," she cooed with a wink.

Fighting a rising blush, Ren cleared his throat. "In any case, that is not what I came here for."

Yang sighed, fixing her eyes on the glimmering moon. "It's about the incident, isn't it?"

"I apologize. I'm sure you have broached the subject more times than you would care for."

"I've gotten used to it," she replied. "So, what of it, then?"

He gulped, taking a breath before speaking. "I saw how they stared at you back at Beacon."

She pushed off from the railing, stretching her back and leaning onto the back wall. "That's what pisses me off the most…"

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

Yang looked right into Ren's eyes, her gaze stern and piercing. "I've gotten over it. I had to. Otherwise I would've become a Griffon's lunch. _They,_ however, have not. Every time I come to terms with what happened, it is _they_ who remind me that I started all this shit." She paused, and took a deep breath. "That I'm to blame for everything that's happened."

 _Who else are they gonna direct it towards…_ Ren mused, Jaune's words echoing in his head.

"Our classmates, the soldiers, all of them have every reason in the world to hate me," Yang continued. "And what can I do about it? _Nothing."_

Stepping away from the railing, he turned to face her.

"No."

She flinched, eyebrows scrunching together. "Excuse me?"

"There _is_ something you can do," he insisted. "Earn back their trust."

Her eyes narrowed further. "And how the hell am I supposed to that?"

"What better way than to fight alongside them?"

She sighed, gazing into the distance. "You make it sound so easy…"

"Well, that's because it is. Only by showing them that you're still on their side will they come to trust you again," he declared. "We can't let these grievances divide us."

He gazed back at the moon, taking in the sky beyond the walls. "We're at war. We've spent enough time and energy worrying about the past. It's about time we focused on the future instead."

The two remained still, listening to the howl of the wind. Yang's chuckle scythed across the silence, with Ren flinching around in surprise.

"Has anyone told you you sound like Ozpin?"

"Not that I recall," he replied, grinning.

She lifted herself off the wall, looking down at the ground. "And here I thought I could get away from it all for a bit…" she muttered.

"In any case, I should probably take my leave. We need all the rest we can get," Ren said, reaching for the glass door. As he grabbed the handle, he turned back towards Yang. "If you ever need anything, my teammates and I will be more than happy to assist."

"I'll just think some things through for a bit," she returned, a smile growing across her face. "Thanks, Ren."

"Anytime," he replied, stepping back into the hallway and closing the door.

* * *

Ozpin stood at the jagged edge of the Beacon courtyard, staring into the city lights on the opposite shore. Their reflections danced on the lake, bisected by the silver glow of the moon. The wind, the crickets, and his own breaths, starting to cloud with the autumn chill, were the only sounds around him.

From behind, a rhythmic clacking of heels grew ever louder. Turning around, he saw Glynda, the same, cold gaze piercing him from behind her glasses.

"What is it you're doing out here at this time?"

The headmaster chuckled. "Oh, nothing. The moon looked lovely this evening."

"You can still watch it from your office."

He turned back ahead, taking a deep breath. "Well, I can't get fresh air from my office, now can I?"

She walked up to his side, looking up at the silver-lined clouds. They drifted across the backdrop of the night, steady and silent.

After a few seconds of quiet, she turned towards him. "You're worried about them, aren't you?"

"How could I not be…" he muttered, shaking his head. "They have never faced anything like this before."

"And what exactly do you think we've been training them for?" she retorted. "They didn't come to this school to learn math or art. They came here to learn how to fight the Grimm. Who else would be more suited?"

"You do not have to explain the necessity," Ozpin sighed. "James was more than pleased to do so."

"Well, I don't plan to," she replied. "You just have to trust them."

He breathed out, tightening his hold on his cane. The faint thunder of artillery came from the northwest, regular and punctual as ever. "Trust isn't the problem here, Glynda."

"Then what is?" she insisted.

He turned around, wandering back along the stone path. "They came to this school to become Hunters. To secure our world in a time of peace…" He halted, setting his staff on the ground. "But now that peace is far beyond our reach. All we are left with now is war. And it is all _they_ have left, too."

"Both of us knew that peace was only temporary. Our job was to prepare them for the inevitable." She walked back towards him, setting a hand on his shoulder. "We did what we could."

Another barrage rumbled in the distance. "I just worry it was not enough."

She lifted her arm, sighed, and stepped forward. "There's no use in worrying now. The General Staff is visiting tomorrow. You need to rest."

"Ever the wiser of us two, aren't you…" Ozpin chuckled, matching her step back to the academy. For a second, he halted, taking a single glance back into the city.

 _Be safe, my students._

* * *

Emerald sat inside her tent, trying her hardest to ignore the clamor from outside. A single army-issue Dust lamp illuminated the drab green fabric; a step up from the darkness she'd lived in for a week. She gazed at the remains of her daily rations in the corner, piled onto those of yesterday.

 _Took them long enough to bother to feed us._

Outside, the muted chatter rose into shouts, halting her thoughts. Cursing, she stepped through the flaps, bumping into a man blocking her view of the pathway. As she staggered through the crowd, sharp, angry voices crystallized out of the din.

"We can't hold any more people! Get them out of here!"

"Fuck you! Where else are we gonna go?"

"Throw 'em out to the Grimm!"

"Stand down! We _will_ shoot!"

The last came from her right, further along the dirt and gravel path. Craning her head around, she saw a soldier, clad in Valic Army green, rifle trained on a figure sprawled at her feet. The man stumbled as he stood, clutching a broken bottle in his hand. Trembling, a lone, young Faunus cowered behind the infantrywoman's legs.

"Those beasts don't belong here…" the man grunted, spitting a globule of blood onto the soil.

"Sir, you are interfering with official Army business. I will not repeat myself. Stand down!"

"Like hell I will!" he gritted. The man staggered, and with renewed fervor, lunged forward.

With clockwork precision, the soldier kicked her attacker's exposed abdomen, sending him crashing down to the side. Snapping her rifle to her shoulder, she fired a single shot into the man's forehead, cracking like a whip and silencing the entire camp. A red river snaked from below the man's messy brown hair, pooling around his neck.

"Carry him out, Oaks," she ordered, jerking her head towards the corpse, rifle still raised.

"Roger, Lieutenant," another soldier replied from behind, hefting the body onto his shoulders and vanishing into the crowd.

Emerald's jaw remained agape, as she stared at the blood-soaked dirt left in the man's wake. The people around her, their gasps, and the entire camp faded away. All she could see was the blood. She imagined it not on the damp soil of a Valic riverbank, but on the cold steel of Amity Colosseum.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. _Not again, not again!_ her mind screamed. As the people around her began drifting back to their tents, she got an impatient tap on her shoulder. Startled, he looked at the figure standing above her.

"Step aside, ma'am," the lieutenant said.

"O-oh, right, sorry," she stammered back, shuffling to the right as the soldier strutted onward. The young Faunus trailed close behind, a teddy bear clutched tight to his chest.

Two more soldiers marched past, followed by a bearded man covered in bandages. A woman came next, gripping the hand of a frightened child. Streaming past between the sprawling rows of tents, the new refugees inched their way deeper into the camp, each pair of eyes more sunken than the last.

Emerald stared at each man, woman, and child before her, thinking back to the empty ration packs piled in her tent. _Just how much food are they gonna take from us to feed them?_

For a moment, she sympathized with the jeers, those anonymous voices that harassed the refugees upon their entry. Then, her stomach rumbled, and her scowl deepened. She thought back to the cramped streets of the Mistral slums, the long, starving nights of digging through trash cans for the smallest scraps.

 _No. I won't let them. I won't go hungry again._

She ducked back into her tent, retrieved her lamp, and looked up into the dull early-morning sky. Spotting the yellow and pink of the eastern horizon, she turned northward, stepping between the remaining stragglers and heading towards the edge of the camp, brow furrowed and fists clenched.

* * *

 **A/N:** Holy shit that took me long enough. School was a bitch and ate into my time hard, but hey, I managed to use this break to cram out this thing! In any case, hopefully uploads will become a tad more frequent. No guarantees though.

Also, I have begun to rewrite my earlier chapters to keep the style more in-line to these later ones (and because the way they were written gave me an aneurysm, but I digress). For now, I have rewritten Chapter Two, so go check it out if ya wish to. The rest of those will be rewritten along with new chapter uploads, so keep an eye out.

As always, all feedback is greatly appreciated.


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